


All We Do Is Run

by Cones_McMurphy



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: 'and they were roommates' 'OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES', Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Connor is an artist AU, I'm not sure how long this is going to be but uh, Jared playing matchmaker eventually, M/M, Slow Fucking Burn, a lot of gay angst, if I ever slow down on updates the solution is more comments and feedback, roommates au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2018-11-04 03:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 65
Words: 83,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10982040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cones_McMurphy/pseuds/Cones_McMurphy
Summary: Evan's mom always said that he would be best friends with his college roommate, but when he gets there, sweaty and anxious, on the first day of freshman orientation, he realizes Heidi might be wrong about that. His roommate, Connor Murphy, is closed off, mean, and has no interest in being Evan's friend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know....I don't know.

_Okay,_ Evan thought, _Room 119, this is it. Time to meet your roommate._ He looked down at the crumpled piece of paper in his hand. _Connor Murphy._ Evan took a deep breath, trying to control the spiral of anxious thoughts in his head. _What if he hates me? What if I say something wrong and he thinks I’m weird. What if—_

His thoughts were interrupted by the door in front of him swinging open, nearly whacking him in the nose. A tall, gangly boy with long, greasy hair, and black painted nails stood mere inches from Evan’s face, stopping just short of plowing into him.

“Y-you must be C-Connor,” Evan extended his hand to shake, but Connor didn’t make any move to return the gesture. Instead he pushed past Evan.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled, as he passed. Evan sighed. It was going to be a long year. Maybe he could request a new roommate? He made a mental note to look into it, and then stepped into his new home. It was small, but Connor didn’t put much on his side, and Evan’s was empty, so it didn’t seem cramped. Connor had picked the side with the window, and streaks of sunlight fell across the black comforter on his bed. Evan tossed his sky blue duffle bag onto the empty bed, and sat down next to it. He wasn’t sure what he expected his roommate to be like, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting the literal embodiment of tall, dark, and mysterious. Maybe he wasn’t as mean as he seemed. Maybe he was just in a rush. Everyone was a little stressed out on move-in day. Maybe the reason his side of the room was still so barren was that he hadn’t finished moving in and he was rushing to get more stuff. Or maybe—Evan stopped himself. There was no point in speculating. He’d find out sooner or later. 

* * *

 

Three weeks into the semester, and Evan was already convinced he was a failure at…Well, at everything, but especially at being a college student. He had a panic attack almost everyday, and he still hadn’t managed to connect with Connor. Turns out that he was, in fact, kind of a jerk. His mother had told him that he would be friends with his college roommate for the rest of his life, but so far all he knew about Connor Murphy was that he got into trouble in the second week of school for having pot in the residence hall, and that he never seemed to go to class, or study, or do anything but sit on his bed, back against the wall, listening to music, with his knees pulled to his chest and a mean look on his face.

 

 _“Have you tried inviting him to the dining hall for dinner?”_ Evan’s mom had asked on the phone earlier that day.

_“…No…”_

_“Ask him to dinner, honey.” She paused, and continued with a sigh. “Isn't it worth a shot?”_

_“I guess.”_

 

Now, Evan sat at his desk, clicking a pen nervously, trying to pluck up the courage to speak to Connor. He swiveled his chair around, and saw that Connor was scribbling something in a notebook. He looked focused. “Whatcha…uh…” Evan cleared his throat. “Whatcha writing?”

“Drawing.” Connor said, not looking up.

 “What?” Evan furrowed his brow.

 Connor sighed, and put down his pencil, “I’m drawing, Hansen, not writing.”

 “Oh,” Evan laughed nervously. “What are you drawing?”

“None of your damn business.”

“S-sorry,” Evan looked down at his feet. “I, uh, just wanted to ask if maybe you wanted to get dinner or something together tonight.”

Connor tensed, slamming his sketchbook shut and reaching for his messenger bag. There was something burning in his eyes that Evan couldn’t place. “I have plans,” he said harshly, shoving his sketchbook into the bag.

“O-oh, okay,” Evan nodded, trying to ignore the familiar tendrils of self-loathing and doubt creeping up from his gut to his chest, and spreading out to his fingertips and toes. “Maybe, uh, m-maybe some other time?”

Connor shrugged, “I guess,” in a tone that suggested he didn’t really mean it, as he opened the door and stepped out, with no word on when he’d back. He slammed the door behind him.

Evan sighed and put his head down on his desk. It was official, Connor Murphy hated him. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Evan was in the middle of researching a paper on deforestation—it was for his ecology class, which was technically upper division, but since he’d taken AP Environmental Science in high school, he tested high enough to get into the course as a freshman. Most of his classes were the basic general education requirements, but ecology was the one class he actually got excited about. And the essay was no exception. He had pages of research notes already. He skimmed the last study he’d read, looking for any information he’d missed the first time he read, cracked his knuckles, and took a sip of the cup of tea he’d made himself earlier. He gagged. It had gone cold without him realizing. He set the cup down with a sigh, and checked the time. 7 PM. _Great_ , he thought, _I missed dinner._

He leaned back in his chair just as his music was interrupted with a familiar ringing, and his screen lit up with a Skype call from “Jared Coolman." Really it was Kleinman, but Jared had decided to be creative with his Skype name. Evan raised his eyebrows in surprise. He and Jared had agreed to Skype each other while they were away at separate colleges—Jared was at some fancy music school for sound engineering, something about the intersection of technology and music? Evan wasn’t sure, honestly—but so far they hadn’t stuck to that agreement. Mostly because Evan was too anxious to initiate, and he hadn’t expected Jared to reach out. He answered the call and sat up in his chair. “Hey.”

“What’s up, Tree Boy?” Jared greeted, with his typical swagger.

“Writing an essay on deforestation, it’s actually really interesting—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Jared smirked, “Nothing you say about trees is _ever_ interesting to me.” The emphasize he placed on “ever” made Evan’s stomach churn with anxiety.

“Then why did you call me?” Evan asked, defensively. 

“You know I’m kidding,” Jared rolled his eyes. Jared seemed to think his sarcasm was obvious, but Evan couldn’t always tell when he was joking. It was endlessly frustrating to Evan. He wished Jared could just say what he meant.

“Oh.”

Jared sighed, “Okay, fine, Puppy Dog Eyes, tell me about the trees.”

Evan beamed, “Well, I’ve been reading about the rain forest. A-and there’s all these animals that live in the trees, that are displaced by deforestation. Trees are incredibly important, hundreds of species benefit from them, and it throws off the whole ecosystem when they’re cut down.”

“So, what are we supposed to do about it? Stop using paper?” Jared laughed.

“Well, recycle more, for one thing, Mr. I-can’t-be-bothered-to-hold-onto-my-cardboard-coffee-cup-until-I-get-to-a-recycling-bin,” Evan quipped back easily.

“That was one time!” Jared groaned. “But point taken.”

“So, that’s what I’m doing, what’s new with you?”

“Hansen, I thought you’d never ask.” Jared perked up slightly, clearly glad to be talking about himself, “My buddies and I—that’s right, I have a squad—we went to Lush, and I got the Sex Bomb. And I talked to this hot chick who was also buying bath bombs, and she was _totally_ digging this,” he paused to gesture loosely to himself, “Apparently I’m 'in touch with my femininity,' which is, like, wildly attractive to women, or something.”

“Jared,” Evan said slowly, “You’re gay.”

“Yeah,” Jared laughed, “And I get more phone numbers from single women then half the straight guys here. It’s fucking hilarious.”

“Aren’t you kind of…” Evan trailed off, “Leading those girls on?”

“I guess, but it’s not my fault that straight men suck so bad that girls have to resort to flirting with us gays.”

“Fair enough,” Evan sighed, “If only they knew they could flirt with a bi boy.”

Jared was about to reply when Evan’s door swung open and Connor stomped in. He walked past Evan’s desk to his bed, and threw himself down. “H-hey, Connor,” Evan attempted. “I’m just skyping my friend. I can go out into the hall if you want.”

“I don’t care,” Connor’s voice came muffled from his duvet, but Evan could just make out the anger in his tone. He pushed himself up on his forearms and grabbed his ear buds. “I won’t be able to hear over my music, anyway.” He slipped in the buds, and it was as if he wasn’t even there.

Evan turned back to his laptop. “So…That’s my roommate, Connor Murphy.”

“He’s hot,” Jared said, matter-of-factly, and Evan blushed bright red.

“No, h-he’s not.” Evan didn’t think of Connor like that, although he did have nice eyes. They were bright blue, like the summer sky, but one of them had a patch of light brown, that looked almost golden in the right light. Not that Evan had paid much attention to Connor's eyes. 

Jared cackled, “God, you are _such_ an easy mark.”

“It doesn’t matter, though,” Evan shrugged. “Even if I did think Connor was hot, which I definitely don’t, he hates me.”

“How so?”

“He’s kind of mean sometimes, and really distant. All he does is get high and listen to music. I don’t even think he goes to class most of the time.”

“Why do good faces happen to bad people?” Jared sighed wistfully, shaking his head.

“Well, I-I…I don’t think he’s necessarily a bad person….I don’t really know him.”

“Oh, Evan. Sweet, sweet Evan. Always seeing the good in people,” There was an unexpected fondness in Jared’s voice.

“Maybe he just hates me. M-maybe I did something to him and didn’t realize. It’s hard to know when you’ve offended someone when you know next to nothing about them,” Evan mumbled, fidgeting with the bottom of his polo shirt.

“When did he start being mean to you?” Jared asked, considering the possibility, which honestly kind of hurt. Evan wished his, er, _family_ friend, would’ve dismissed those thoughts as his anxiety speaking, instead of giving them merit.

“The moment we met,” Evan answered quietly.

“Evan,” Jared shook his head. “It’s not you. How could you have offended him before you even met him?” 

Evan shrugged, “I don’t know….” 

“I thought you were doing better,” Jared said softly. It was a rare moment of genuine care coming from Jared, and it was a pleasant surprise, until he added, “My mom will want to know whenever I call her.” _Oh, right._

 “I am…I’m trying. But Connor…He’s like a brick wall. There’s no way in.” Evan frowned, “I gave up trying.” He wished that Connor would at least talk to him, but every time he tried he received two sentences, tops, both sharp and short.

“Sucky,” Jared nodded, “Very sucky.”

“At least he goes somewhere else to smoke,” Evan shrugged, “He’s not always here.” He didn’t add that it was the result of Connor getting busted for pot already. He didn't think that would go over well. 

“Thank God for small miracles.”

“I guess.” 

“Okay, Nerd, I gotta go, the squad and I are going to laser tag, and I plan on dominating,” Jared grinned. “But we’ll talk later in the week, yeah?”

“Sure,” Evan nodded.

“Good, cause I still need my mom to pay for my car insurance.”

“Of course.”

“Again, I’m kidding. That’s a joke. We laugh at jokes.” 

Evan forced out a half-hearted laugh. “Oh, right.”

“Later, Tree Boy.”

“Bye, Jared. Have fun at—” But the call had already ended. Jared was gone. Evan shrugged, took another sip of his now even colder tea, and refocused on his essay.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Connor angst!! Yes, this is a split perspective fic! Although most of it will be Evan's point of view, I wanted to give some insight into what Connor is in this fic. Also it's late and so there may be some missed typos and stuff.

Connor cursed as he stepped out into the cool night air. He’d come to college to escape his parents, and maybe try to figure out whatever was wrong in his head, but so far he had already gotten busted for pot, and hadn’t gone to class after the first week or so. And now here he was, leaving the res all at 10 PM. He didn’t plan on leaving, but he started feeling restless, like he needed to get out of there. He didn’t really know where to go, so he wandered aimlessly for awhile. He wound up at a park bench a few blocks away from the residence hall. He pulled out his sketchbook and examined a half finished drawing from a few days earlier. It wasn’t he best work, but then, it was his first time drawing Evan Hansen.

When Connor had opened the door on the first day of orientation and nearly slammed right into his new roommate, he’d found himself face to face with soft looking, honey blonde hair, pink cheeks sprinkled with freckles, and bright hazel eyes, although that day they looked blue. His breath had hitched and he couldn’t speak for a moment as the boy stuttered something out in a meek voice. Connor wasn’t listening. He was reeling. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen someone so aggressively adorable in his life. After a moment he snapped out of it, coming back down to the reality of the situation. Connor had never been very lovable, and he doubted his college roommate, of all people, would be the exception to that rule. He’d pushed past him rather rudely.

And that was that. Feelings…attraction…whatever it was, shut down. Until a few days ago, when what started as a mindless doodle turned into a sketch of said roommate, hunched over his desk, studying. And then Hansen had to go and ask what he was drawing, and what was he supposed to say? “ _You, because I think you’re really cute. By the way, I’m gay, like really super gay.”_ He didn’t even know if Hansen liked boys, and even if he did, he certainly wouldn’t like Connor. And that was fine. Connor was used to admiring from afar. Not many people got close to a person they were afraid of.

It’s not that his feelings were particularly strong for Hansen, little more than physical, aesthetic attraction, that filled his chest with flutters and made his palms sweat a little. If Hansen was just some kid in one of his classes, or someone who lived down the hall, it wouldn’t have been more than a passing thought. But Connor had to see Hansen every single god damned day. It was honestly more frustrating than anything, constantly being bombarded with those stupid blue shirts and those stupid freckles and that stupidly pretty hair. Connor wouldn’t hesitate to kill a man if it meant running his fingers through that hair. It just looked so… _soft_. Most of Evan looked soft. The opposite of Connor, with his sharp, angular features, and greasy, tangled hair. Connor was rough around the edges. He always had been.

Even when he was seven god damned years old, just a scared second grader. He'd thrown a printer at his teacher. He’d just gotten so _mad_ , and it was right there, and he hadn’t meant to hurt her. He didn’t think it would actually hit her. He just had to do _something_ to get out his aggression or he would’ve exploded. At least, that’s how he remembered feeling that day. That was the first time his parents were called because of his behavior. After that, he became The Problem Child. The black sheep. _“Connor is different,”_ his mom would say, as his dad nodded solemnly along. Being rich, they had plenty of money to spend on child therapists who told them exactly what they wanted to hear: that Connor was crazy.

On some level, Connor knew it was out of love. But it sure as shit didn’t feel like love when his mom put him in program after program for “special kids.” He felt like a disease on the family they were trying desperately to cure. Meanwhile, his sister was a star. She had the good grades, the incredible musical talent, the placid, happy attitude. She was their golden child. Connor loved his sister, he did. Zoe was the one person in the world who could understand what growing up with their parents was really like. But it was easy to build resentment for her, when she got the attention he craved. By the time he graduated from high school, their relationship was almost entirely deteriorated, and it was completely his fault.

At least, after years of always being the freaky kid who was constantly pulled out of school for therapy retreats, which the rumor mills always turned into rehab, Connor had gotten used to being alone. He'd built up defenses. He would spend his time in his bedroom, drawing, trying his best to avoid talking to his parents. If anyone at school tried to talk to him, he'd push them away. It was easier that way. He'd thought that getting away from that environment and coming to college would be a fresh start, but he couldn’t even interact with his roommate properly. He raked a hand through his hair, and pulled out his phone to check the time. Somehow he’d been sitting on that bench for an hour. It didn't feel like more than a few minutes. _Whatever_ , he thought, standing to head back to the residence hall, _time is an illusion anyway._

It took Connor a good fifteen minutes to get back to room 119. He tried to be quiet when he walked in, figuring his roommate would be asleep, but Hansen sat up in his bed as soon as he opened the door. “You’re back late…” There wasn’t much concern in his voice, just curiosity. It reminded Connor of the way the kids in high school always asked about his “treatments” and “special programs.” Like they wanted to know what kind of freaky, illegal things he was doing at a fucking therapy center—spoiler alert, it was mostly hot yoga.

“Why do you care?” Connor spat. Hansen flinched, and Connor immediately regretted the harshness of his words.

“I-I-I…” Hansen squeaked out, and Connor could see flickers of panic in his eyes.

“I went for a walk,” Connor said, walking toward his own bed. His voice was still cold and sharp, but hopefully a little less so. It was hard for him to gauge it himself, but Hansen seemed to relax a little, so that was a good sign.

“M-makes sense.” Hansen nodded, shimmying back down under his blankets. He looked tired. Connor didn’t say anything about it; he just pulled off his jeans and jacket, so he was in his boxers and black t-shirt, and slid into his own bed. Hansen flicked off his desk lamp, and the room was submerged into darkness. “G-good night, Connor.”

“Night, Hansen.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this up yesterday, but my internet went down.

The forest near campus was one of Evan’s favorite places. There was a small clearing just a twenty minute walk down the eastern trail where he liked to go when he felt stressed, or overwhelmed, or even when he just wanted to be alone, away from Connor. Sometimes he would read, other times he would just sit in one the trees and take in nature. It was a crisp Sunday morning, one of the last days of September, and Evan found himself perched in his usual spot in the big, old oak tree on the far end of the clearing. The first month of classes had gone by in a whirlwind. Everything was moving too fast for Evan, like he could feel the Earth spinning underneath him, but things always seemed to slow down in the woods. It was just him and the trees and the birds and the wind rustling the branches and the soft, autumn sunlight warming his cheeks and bare arms. He let his eyelids slide shut and listened to the gentle sounds of the forest.

For a brief moment, Evan felt calm. His reprieve was quickly interrupted as the shrill tone of his cell phone cut through the quiet. He pulled it out, ready to ignore whomever was calling, until he glanced down at the screen and saw that it was his mother. He sighed and answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, kiddo,” Heidi sounded tired, as usual.

“Hey….” Evan wasn’t really sure why she was calling. Sure, she _said_ she’d call everyday, just to check in, but so far she’d been too busy to keep her word, which, honestly, wasn’t all that surprising.

“So, how are you? We have talked in awhile.”

“You haven’t called,” Evan said flatly.

“I know, I know…I’m sorry. I’ve been picking up an extra shifts to help pay your tuition, and it’s been eating up all my spare time.”

“Oh,” a twinge of guilt twisted in Evan’s gut.

“But enough about me, honey,” there was a forced lightness in her voice. “How’s school? Tell me everything.”

“School is fine.” 

“Just fine? Not great? Is anything wrong?”

“N-no, no. That’s not what I meant,” Evan shook his head, even though he knew she couldn’t see him, “I meant, uh, that it’s good.”

 “Good. Are you studying?”

 “Yes, Mom. I'm studying right now, in fact.” He lied. It was easier that way.

“Good. I'm proud of you," more forced cheeriness. Evan wasn't sure why she bothered. "How are your classes?” 

“Good…I wrote a report on deforestation for my ecology class this week, that was pretty interesting,” Evan laughed nervously, “You know me and trees.”

“Oh, honey, that’s great,” Finally, she meant it, “I’m so glad you’re doing well.”

“Thanks.”

“So, are you making any friends?”

“I mean, uh,” Evan swallowed. It was the question he’d be dreading since the start of the conversation. His mom didn’t understand how hard it was for him to make friends. How he stuttered nervously and overanalyzed everything. By the end of most interactions he was convinced that the other person definitely hated him, which meant there was no way he’d talk to the person ever again. “I’ve been really busy with schoolwork, and that should be my focus, right?”

“Evan.” He cringed at the disappointment in her voice.

“I’m trying, I am,” Evan insisted, “It’s just hard for me.”

“I thought the letters were helping you.”

“They were—are—but, my anxiety isn’t going to magically disappear.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

Evan sighed, “You’re right, I’m sorry,” he paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, “I just…I just don’t know why you always ask me the same question when you know what the answer is going to be. No, I don’t have any friends. I’m weird and awkward and I stutter and I always say the wrong thing. That’s just how it is.”

“That’s not how it always was,” Heidi murmured wistfully. “When you were a toddler, you used to say ‘hi’ to everyone we’d meet on the street. Your father and I couldn’t take you anywhere without you making a new friend. You were a regular ball of sunshine. What happened to that kid?”

Evan shifted uncomfortably. He wished he could say what he was thinking: “ _He grew up? Became aware of his flaws? Blamed himself for his dad walking out and marrying a cocktail waitress, and grew up with severe abandonment issues and a crippling fear of being left alone that stops him from reaching out to people?_ ” but he held his tongue. Instead, all he said was a simple, “I don’t know, Mom.”

“Hey,” Heidi said abruptly, as if she was realizing something for the first time, “What about your roommate, uh, Connor, right?” Evan hated how strained her voice was, how desperately she was clinging to the hope that he and Connor might’ve somehow connected since the last time she talked to him.

“I told you before, Connor doesn’t like me.”

“Did you ask him to dinner, like I told you to do?”

 “Yeah, I did.” Evan frowned at the memory of Connor rushing out the door, like he was in a horror movie, and Evan was the monster. “He didn’t want to go.”

“Maybe he was busy that day,” Heidi offered, “You should try again.”

“No, Mom. Connor is a jerk. And we have nothing in common,” he leaned back against the bark of the oak tree, “I bet if I asked him to hang out again, he’d punch me in the face or something.”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating. He can’t be that bad.”

“No, Mom. He is. Yesterday he threw his pen at the wall so hard in cracked in half. I don’t even know what he was mad about.” Evan shuddered just thinking about it. He’d never really been around someone as violent as Connor.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” And she was. Evan knew that, at least. She wanted him to be happy and healthy, above everything else. Maybe she forgot to call sometimes, but that was only because she worked so hard. 

“Hey,” Evan managed weakly, “It’s only been a month. I have four more years to make friends, right? I’m bound to make some eventually.”

“That’s a great attitude.”

“Yeah…” It was a good attitude. Evan wished that he actually believed it.

“Oh, crap.” 

“Let me guess, you lost track of time, and you’re late for work?” Even on a Sunday...Evan shook his head.  _The life of a nurse_.

“Honey…”

“No, it’s okay, really. I understand.” He did.

“I love you so much.” She made a kissing sound into the phone. _MWAH._

“I love you, too, Mom. Good luck at work.”

 “Talk to you later, kiddo.”

“Bye, Mom.” And the line went dead. Evan shoved his phone back into the pocket of his khakis. He tried to settle back into the peace of the forest, but his phone call with his mother had agitated him too much. The calmness he’d felt just earlier somehow eluded him. Now his thoughts were filled with Connor Murphy and every other person he’d tried and failed to connect with in the last month. _Why can’t I talk to people? Why did I get stuck with such a mean roommate? Why am I so broken? Why can’t I just be normal and make friends?_

Evan sighed. So much for a relaxing morning.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Severe panic attack, Evan's inner monologue says some very typical school related anxiety stuff about being a failure and stuff. It might be kind of hard to read for some people. But this is a SUPER IMPORTANT CHAPTER, and I tried to write it so it wouldn't be too visceral. Also, uh, strong language.

Evan stared at the exam sheet in front of him, feeling a familiar tightness build in his chest. The words blurred and scrambled, and he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. _Come on,_ a voice in his head said, _This is just biology. You should know this. You studied. Why can’t you do it? Are you stupid?_ He wanted to yell back at the voice in his head, but he was in a testing room, and even if he wasn’t his throat had closed up and he couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. He could hear the blood pounding in his head, rushing like a waterfall inside of him. His pencil slipped out of his sweaty, shaking hands as he tried to look at the paper again. This time he made sense of a few of the words. _Letter A, the answer is letter A._ He picked up his pencil, and took a deep breath, ready to select Letter A from the multiple choice answers. _Or is it? How can you be sure you actually know what you’re doing?_ _Maybe it’s Letter D._  

He circled letter A, and tried to push through, despite his shaking hands and uneven breathing, despite the way the room was spinning around him, and the fact that his stomach was in knots. He was the last one to finish the exam, which wasn’t unusual. He turned it in on wobbly legs, and then dragged his exhausted body straight back to his dorm room. Halfway there he realized he was crying. _Fuck. Fuck. You definitely failed that exam. You’re a complete failure. You’re going to flunk out of school. You fucking idiot. You worthless fucking failure._

He was sobbing uncontrollably by the time he got back to room 119. He collapsed onto his bed and curled around his pillow. “Stupid, stupid, stupid…” He mumbled under his breath. _How do you expect to make it through college if you can’t even take an exam without crying? You’re useless. No wonder no one wants to be your friend. You’re so fucking stupid. This is why your dad left, you know. He didn’t want to have such a stupid, piece of shit son._ He sobbed harder.

“Uh, Hansen?” Connor asked from his usual spot in the corner of the room, on his bed. Evan hadn’t even noticed he was there. “What happened?” 

“I f-f-f-failed my b-b-b-biology t-t-test,” Evan blubbered.

“The one you were up all night studying for?” There was genuine sympathy in Connor's voice.  _I'm imagining things. He doesn't care._

“Y-yeah,” Evan nodded. “S-s-sorry, i-if I kept y-y-you up.”

 Connor shrugged, “I don’t sleep much anyway.”

“O-oh.” Evan blinked, attempting to pull himself together. But he was still panicking. Connor looked like he wanted to say something, but he was unsure of himself. Evan couldn’t understand. Connor had made it clear that he didn’t care one bit about Evan, so why act concerned now? _He doesn’t care. He just wants you to stop crying. It’s probably irritating him. Wow, congratulations, fuckhead, you’re not just a failure, you’re an annoying failure._ “S-sorry, I-I’m c-c-crying.”

“No, no,” Connor shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“O-okay.”

“But, uh, you shouldn’t care so much. It’s not like anyone in the real world gives a fuck about grades. School is bullshit.” Connor’s voice was laced with bitterness. Evan sniffed, processing what he was saying. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. He didn’t speak for about a minute, and Connor sighed and turned away, apparently deeming the situation a lost cause. Evan sat up and wiped the snot from his nose.

“W-w-why are y-you, why are you, um,” He struggled to form his sentence, “Why are you even here?”

“What?” Connor turned back to face Evan.

“I-i-if you hate it so m-much,” Evan added quietly. “Why c-come to s-school if you h-h-hate it so much? You don’t c-c-care about your g-g-grades, o-or making friends, or any of it.” Evan shrugged, tears still running down his cheeks.

Connor went silent for a moment, eyes wide in surprise. He was clearly expecting pretty much anything but that. Connor opened his mouth and then closed it again, before finally opening it to speak, “Being at school is better than being at home.” This time, instead of bitterness, there was a brokenness in his voice that somehow felt familiar to Evan. There were a few seconds of silence, and then Connor’s face hardened again.

Evan couldn’t even begin to process what that meant, at least, not for a few hours. It took him that long to come down from his exam panic. He was reading Emerson for comfort, as he often did after a stressful day, but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing over to Connor every so often. Connor was, as usual, listening to music, like nothing had happened. But, for Evan, something had changed. _“Better than being at home,”_ the words still rang in Evan’s ears. Evan would never, not in a million years, have expected a moment of vulnerability from Connor. But it happened. Evan had gotten a glimpse underneath the hard, protective shell that Connor put up.

Evan put down his book, and just watched Connor for a moment. He was absorbed in his music: eyes closed, fingers tapping on his knee to the rhythm of whatever song he was listening to. He was even humming softly. _Maybe_ , Evan thought, _he’s not just a jerk. Maybe he’s protecting himself by pushing everyone away. Or maybe his home life is just so bad that he doesn’t know any other way to be._ _He certainly doesn’t look scary now. In fact,_ Evan realized, _he almost looks...gentle._

It struck Evan that he really didn’t know Connor. He knew the surface Connor, the person Connor presented the world, but if the earlier events of the day were any indication, there was so much more to Connor Murphy than met the eye. _Maybe we have more in common than I thought._ And just like that, Evan made a decision. He was going to do everything in his power to become Connor Murphy’s friend, to see more of whatever was behind his walls.

He opened his book again, with the corners of his lips pulling up into a small smile.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really struggled with this chapter, so it's a little shorter than usual.

“You did _what?_ ” Jared scoffed in disbelief, pushing up his glasses.

“I talked to Connor,” Evan shrugged and glanced away from his computer screen. He suddenly felt like he was in an interrogation.

“You, Evan Hansen, initiated a conversation with Connor Murphy?” Jared was laughing now. Evan scowled, and nodded. “Oh my god. How? Why?”

“I don’t know…It just kind of happened…” Evan trailed off, his mind wandering to the night before.

 

_Connor was painting his nails. The scent of the polish was strong, almost strong enough to give Evan a headache. It probably would’ve if it wasn’t for all those times he’d helped paint his mom’s nails as a kid. It had been a few days since Evan had decided to make an effort to talk to Connor, and so far all his attempts at small talk had been weak. Connor didn’t seem interested. Although…he didn’t seem uninterested, either…Mostly he just seemed confused. Evan wondered why Connor went to the trouble of doing his nails when he couldn’t even be bothered to wash his hair regularly. And then he heard his own voice speaking. “Why do you paint your nails?”_

_“What?” Connor’s head snapped up._

_“Er, uh,” Evan swallowed nervously, “Not that it’s a bad thing....”_

_“I paint them because I like it,” Connor shrugged, “And it pisses my dad off.”_

_Evan nodded, and he closed the book he’d been pretending to read a few minutes prior. “So..Uh, you, uh..er, I mean. You d-d-don’t get along w-with your dad?”_

_“Hell no,” Connor put the lid on his bottle of polish, and looked up to make eye contact while he spoke. “My dad’s an asshole. A rich, selfish, asshole.”_

_“Oh,” Evan said awkwardly, unsure how to fill the space. For a moment he thought he was going to lose the conversation, when Connor spoke again._

_“What about your dad?” He asked quietly, waving his hands to dry the polish. “You get along?”_

_“I, er, I, uh, don’t know?” Evan fidgeted with the bottom his polo shirt and shifted his gaze to the floor. Talking about his dad always made him freeze up._

_“The fuck does that mean?”_

_“M-my dad, he uh,” Evan swallowed hard, “H-h-he, left w-when, I was s-s-seven.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“Yeah…I d-d-don’t really k-k-know him…”_

_“Sorry,” Connor managed awkwardly, but sincerely. “So,” Connor cleared his throated and tried to move on, while Evan kept his eyes locked on the floor. “Have you ever painted your nails?”_

_“Yeah,” Evan nodded. “My mom, I used to help her paint her nails when I was a kid, and sometimes she would paint mine.” Evan smiled at the memories. “She had this, this 'candy apple red' shade that I liked to wear.”_

_Connor laughed. “I can’t imagine you in bright red nail polish.” It slipped out of his mouth casually, effortlessly, almost without a thought._

_Evan blushed a little—he hated how easily he blushed—and then spoke: “Oh, I…It was when I was r-r-really young…L-l-like 5 or 6. I haven’t w-w-worn it in y-years.” Evan brought himself to look up, and saw Connor was still looking at him._

_“I get it.” Connor looked frustrated, but Evan didn’t know why exactly he was frustrated. Maybe he was just frustrated with the conversation itself. “Little kid you had more balls that eighteen year old you?”_

_“Y-y-yeah.” Evan nodded, “I, uh, I guess.” They fell into silence again, but this time Evan, emboldened by the fact that Connor was still talking to him, broke the silence himself. “When, uh, when did you start painting your nails?”_

_“Middle school, I think?” Connor cocked his head to the side, clearly thinking back in his memory, before nodding. “Yeah, middle school.”_

_Evan nodded. “So, it’s been a long time, then…”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“So I g-g-guess it’s kind of…Your s-s-signature look at this point?” Evan smirked._

_Connor shrugged, “I guess you could say that.”_

_Evan hesitated for a moment before continuing, “I’ve never really had a signature look.” He looked down at his own khakis. “I’m kind of boring when it comes to fashion.”_

_Connor raised an eyebrow. “So those blue polo shirts you’re always wearing aren’t a signature look?”_

_“I d-d-didn’t think of t-that.”_

The conversation had faded after that. Evan didn’t know what to think of what Connor had said, and Connor seemed uninterested in talking anymore, so that was that. But it was a start. It was an actual, real conversation.

“So let me get this straight,” Jared’s voice crackled through Evan’s old junky earbuds, and brought him back to the present. “You talked to him about _nail polish_? And your dads being shitty?”

Evan looked up at Jared, who was grinning. “Yeah.”

“Dude, you _bonded_.”

 “You’re enjoying this.”

“Hell yeah, I am. You’ve decided, for some godforsaken reason, to talk to your Edge Lord roommate, who last I checked, you were afraid of, and he talked to you about nail polish and Daddy Issues. Evan, buddy, this is like my very own gay soap opera.”

“Jared!” Evan dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t even know if he likes boys, firstly, and secondly, I don’t like him that way! I just want to be his friend.”

“You know, I might’ve believed that if you hadn’t decided to talk to him so out of nowhere. Last time I checked, you were convinced he hated you.”

“So?” 

“So, what changed?”

“Oh, uh…” Evan didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to explain what had happened earlier that week to Jared. “I just…I think I might’ve misjudged him, is all.”

“Okay,” Jared shook his head, “There’s something you’re not telling me, but as much as I'd love to stay online and badger it out of you, I have a date with the hot guy from my music theory class.”

“The one who looks like a younger Ryan Reynolds?”

“That’s the one," Jared placed a hand over his chest for dramatic effect. "And I would _love_ to be his Blake Lively,"  he winked, "If you know what I mean." 

“Oh, believe me, I do," Evan chuckled, "Have fun, but don’t stay out too late. And be safe!” 

“Thanks, _Mom_ ,” Jared quipped. “Later, dude.” 

“Bye, Jared." And then Evan was alone. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Connor yelling and swearing a lot at the beginning of this chapter.

Evan could hear the yelling when he was three doors down from room 119. Connor’s voice was loud and sharp. “No, fuck you! All my life you’ve done your best to hide me away, for the sake of your precious reputation!” And then a pause. “No! I won’t do it! I’m eighteen fucking years old. You can’t make me do anything.” Evan gulped, suddenly terrified of opening his own door. He forced himself to keep walking, equally as afraid of being labeled a hallway lurker.

“You can’t fucking cut me off,” Connor spat as Evan opened the door, “How would you explain away your only son being,” he gasped in mock horror, “A college dropout.” Evan shrunk back and slinked his way to his bed. 

Connor barely noticed him. He just kept yelling. “You can’t parade me around like a fucking prostitute! I won’t fucking do it! You don’t get to decide you want me back just because it’s fucking convenient for you!” He took a deep breath, “Fucking asshole,” he mumbled under his breath. Evan was shaking. He hated yelling, even when it wasn’t directed at him.

Whatever the person Connor was fighting with said next caused him to scrunch up his face in frustration, “I said you’re a FUCKING ASSHOLE!” He shouted, and threw his phone onto his bed. It stopped just short of hitting the wall and shattering. Connor whipped around, finally acknowledging Evan. Evan’s heart pounded in his chest. _Please don’t yell at me, please don’t yell at me, please don’t yell at m—_

“What the fuck are you looking at, Hansen?”

“N-n-n-nothing.”

“Good.” Connor picked up his phone and shoved it in his pocket. “I’m going out for awhile, don’t wait up.” He opened his bottom desk drawer and pulled out a Ziploc baggie…Evan didn’t have to guess what was in it. Connor shoved the bag of weed into the pocket with his phone, kicked the drawer shut, and left, slamming the door on his way out.

Evan sighed with relief. He’d seen Connor angry like this before, and he knew that Connor wouldn’t be back until late, and when he came back he’d be a lot calmer. Until then, Evan would try to focus on his homework.

 

* * *

  

It was almost midnight when Connor came back. Evan had finished his homework, and was curled up on his bed, reading. That night he’d opted for something he’d read a million times before; he didn’t have the energy or focus to read something new. Instead, he pulled out the copy of _Winnie The Pooh_ his mother had bought him after his dad left. Connor came back in quietly.

“Hey…” He started, but then immediately trailed off. Evan sighed, closed his book, and sat up.

“H-hey.”

“So, about earlier…” Connor was bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet.

 “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry,” Connor said, without making eye contact.

“You’re sorry?” Evan wasn’t entirely sure what Connor meant by that. Apologizing was new.

“Yeah…I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” Connor pushed his bangs behind his ear.

“Oh…” Evan hesitated, not sure what to say. “Thanks?”

Connor shrugged. “I wasn’t mad at you, you know? It was my dickhead dad who I was mad at—still am, actually, but the point is, I was out of line.”

Evan nodded, “I…I, uh, a-a-appreciate that.”

“Yeah…” Connor sighed, “I know I have a bad temper. I’ve totally fucked up my relationship with my sister because of it. But, you know, I figured, since I haven’t screwed this up yet, might as well keep it that way,” he looked up at Evan, "At least I don't think I've screwed this up?”

 Evan blinked twice. “N-no, er,” Evan stammered, “I mean, uh, no y-you haven’t screwed a-anything u-up with m-me,” Evan was reeling. _Is there something to screw up? Does Connor care about me?_ Evan’s mind froze at the thought, his heart hammered in his chest. 

“Good,” Connor smiled in the corner of his mouth. Evan’s breath caught, a single thought pulsating in his head. _Connor cares._ Not necessarily a lot, but enough to apologize, and mean it. And that was enough for Evan. Maybe they really could be friends.

“So, uh,” Evan bit his lip. “W-what did your dad say that made you so mad?”

“Oh, uh,” Connor shrugged. “Just some bullshit about wanting to set me up with some girl. The daughter of one of the partners at his firm, or something like that. Apparently she was in rehab last month, so we have a lot in common.”

Evan’s eyes widened, “So, y-you, uh…”

“No,” Connor’s eyes narrowed, “I was not in rehab. I just smoke a little pot. But, you know, it’s all the same to him.”

Evan nodded.

“But there are so many things wrong with that. First of all, he’s been trying to cover that shit up for years. I’m his black sheep, but suddenly it’s convenient for him to have a fucked up kid, now that he wants to parade me around as his poor misunderstood drug addict. Like he gives a fuck about my problems.”

“Yeah….That does sound bad.”

“And don’t even get me started on the audacity he has to try to set me up with a _girl_?” Connor almost seemed amused by the apparent absurdity of the notion, “Newsflash, Dad, I like boys. I seem to remember telling you that in high school, and then you not talking to me for two weeks.” Connor’s voice was dripping with bitterness as he flopped backwards onto his bed.

“I..I’m sorry, Connor,” And Evan meant it. He was lucky. His mom was pretty supportive. She didn’t always understand what he was going through, but she tried, and that meant everything to Evan. He couldn't even imagine what it must be like to have an unsupportive parent.

“Yeah…He’s a jackass.” Connor moved so his legs, which had been hanging off the edge of the bed, could fit comfortable on his bed, and then rolled onto his stomach, propping up his head in the palm of his hand.

“So…” Evan hesitated. “You’re gay?”

“Gay as fuck,” Connor nodded.

“Cool,” Evan tried to give Connor a supportive smile. Connor just quirked an eyebrow. “Er, uh, I mean, that is, y’know, good for you, I mean, that came out wrong, but, uh, it’s good that you’re, that, um, it’s just—“

“Dude, breathe,” Connor cut off Evan’s rambling. “It’s cool. I know what you mean.”

Evan did as he was told, and took a deep breath. “Thanks.”

“So, what’s your deal?” Connor asked. 

Evan blinked twice. “M-my what?”

“My deal is boys. What’s yours? Girls? Boys? Neither? Both?”

“Both,” Evan said a little too quickly. “Er, all, really. I sort of…bounce between bi and pan. But, uh, either way. Not at all straight. Boys are…Boys…Boys are cute.”

“Yeah, they are,” Connor laughed. A real, genuine laugh. It was the first time Evan heard Connor laugh like that. There was no bitterness, no anger in his voice, just a little spark of happiness. His laugh was softer and warmer than Evan expected. Evan thought it sounded how early morning sunlight would sound, if it was a sound. Quiet and subdued, but still beautiful and bright. Evan only wished it lasted longer than just a few seconds.

“So,” Connor cleared his throat abruptly, looking a little uncomfortable, and Evan realized he’d been staring. _Oops_. “Anyways. It’s getting late. I really just wanted to make sure we were good.”

Evan nodded, “We’re good.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor a gay wreck, Evan is oblivious. I don't own the song "Oh Love" by Green Day.

October was going by in a blur. One minute, it was the first of the month, the air just starting to cool, the next in the was mid-month, and they were fully entrenched in the first cold snap of the fall. Evan liked the brisk fall air, it cleared his head when he was anxious, but it seemed too soon. He felt himself missing the heat of the summer, and the long late afternoon shadows of September. On that particular evening, maybe a little closer to end of the October than the beginning, but still very much in the middle, he sat in the library amongst construction paper pumpkins and phony cobwebs draped across the window. He had midterms in a few weeks, and he was already anxious about them.

He chewed his pencil as he read the same passage from his calculus textbook over again from the 3rd time. He still didn’t quite understand it. Math was Evan’s worst subject, but calculus was required, since he’d managed to avoid it in high school. He hated it. And he still didn’t understand that last paragraph. He groaned in frustration, took the pencil from his mouth and tossed it down on the desk. _I’m so done_ , he thought closing the textbook and pulling out his phone to check the time. 8:23. Once again, he’d lost track of time and worked through dinner. Luckily, he had a few granola bars stashed back in his dorm room. He packed up his things and headed out of the library.

As he walked back to room 119, he let his mind drift to Connor. They hadn’t interacted all day. Connor was still asleep when Evan got up to go to his classes, and Evan hadn’t been back to the dorm all day. He was slightly anxious to be talking to Connor. He really didn’t know what to make of everything that had happened. _Were they friends?_ Evan couldn’t say. He wasn’t sure what friendship was supposed to entail. The closest thing he had to a friend was Jared, but that was kind of a skewed baseline. They’d been family friends since they were in diapers, Evan couldn’t remember not having Jared in his life. And on top of that, Jared was kind of an asshole. Of course, Evan loved Jared like a brother, but Evan really hoped that wasn’t how all friendships worked. 

Evan shook himself out of his thoughts when he came to the door of room 119. He took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping inside. Connor was in his usual spot on his bed, nestled in the corner, listening to music. He looked up and nodded at Evan when he walked in, but didn’t make any move to interact beyond that. Evan didn’t mind at all. He was tired, and social interaction was hard, especially with Connor. Evan tossed his book bag down on his bed, went for the bottom desk drawer where his granola bars were, and pulled out a peanut butter chocolate chip bar—his favorite kind. He sat cross-legged on his bed while he nibbled on the bar.

Connor was still looking at him; he had the kind of stare that felt inescapable, and Evan felt his cheeks heating up in a blush. “W-what?”

“What?” Connor blinked, flustered, pulling out one of his earbuds. “Nothing. What did you say?”

“You were staring at me.”

“Sorry, I was just zoning out, listening to music, and you,” Connor coughed over the end of his sentence, “Just happened to be in my line of sight.” _Oh great,_ Evan thought,  _you totally interrupted his music. He’s probably so annoyed at you. Great job, Hansen. Way to make a friend._

“Oh,” Evan shrugged, trying to keep his anxiety at bay, and as hidden as it could possibly be, “O-okay.” He looked back down at his half eaten granola bar, his appetite now gone, before looking up again at Connor. “S-sorry, I interrupted your music. I’ll, uh, I’ll shut up now.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Here, you wanna listen?” Connor said earnestly, and held out the earbud he’d already removed. “It’s Green Day.”

“Uh, sure…” Evan stood up, took a wide step to cross the small room to Connor’s bed, grabbed the earbud from Connor’s hand, pushed it into his ear, and sat down next to him. He came into the song late, missing the first few lyrics.

 

_Far away, far away_

_Waste away tonight_

_I’m wearing my heart on a noose_

 

Evan hadn’t listened to a lot of Green Day, but we he had, he liked. This song, _Oh Love_ , according to Connor’s cracked iPod, was no exception. Connor fidgeted with a loose thread on his jeans. This was the closest Evan had ever been to Connor’s face, and he was surprised to notice a light dusting of freckles on the apples of Connor’s cheeks. _Angel Kisses_ , his mother would’ve called them. The kind of freckles you only notice when you’re really close to someone’s face.

 

_Old story, same old story_

_Won’t you see the light of day?_

 

Evan bopped his head side to side to the melody. It was a nice song. And Connor seemed to relax the longer Evan sat by his side. At least, for a moment, then his tensed up even more than before. Evan didn’t understand, until the next lyrics played, and Connor turned a soft shade of pink.

 

_Talk myself out of feeling_

_Talk myself out of control_

_Talk myself out of falling in love with you_

 

Evan gave Connor a gentle smile. “It’s okay,” he said quietly, just audible over the music. “I know, it’s just the song lyrics. You don’t have to worry.”

Connor nodded and looked away. “I won’t worry, then.”

 

_Far away, far away_

_Waste away tonight_

_Tonight my heart’s on the loose_


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a monster, and it didn't come out exactly how I planned. Hope you enjoy Connor being a pining wreck for another thousand words lmao.

Connor loved the fall. He loved the grey, dizzily weather, and the way the wind would bite at his skin. He loved watching the leaves turn color. He had so many sketchbooks filled with drawings of the different shades and hues of red, orange, and yellow, that filled the trees. The one thing Connor Murphy did not like about the fall was Halloween. Oh, it wasn’t a bad holiday. As a kid, Connor loved to dress up and go trick-or-treating. But ever since he was fourteen or so, Halloween was just the night he couldn’t go out without someone thinking he was up to no good. For some reason—was it the hair, or the black clothes, or maybe just his general demeanor?—Connor looked like the kind of guy who egged his teachers’ houses on Halloween. Halloween also reminded Connor of Zoe, how close they were as kids, and how he’d totally ruined that. But he didn’t want to think about that.

Instead, he snapped his thoughts, stretched like a rubber band all the way to his childhood, back to the present moment, the day before Halloween, and his pumpkin spice latte. He sat at a Starbucks near campus, one that was usually full of students, with his sketch pad open to a blank page. Connor didn’t generally find himself in coffee shops, but he, in all honestly, really liked pumpkin spice lattes. Alana, maybe the one friend he’d had in high school, had given him shit for it, but he didn’t really care. Pumpkin spice was fucking delicious. So, he’d walked a few blocks to the nearest Starbucks. He didn’t plan on staying, but Connor was changeable, and once he got there, the trek back to his dorm seemed heinous. Besides, a coffee shop was a good place to sketch anything that wasn’t Evan fucking Hansen.

He swore his hand had a mind of it’s own, the number of times Hansen suddenly appeared on the page in front of him, each time in different light, or a different angle, or even simply in a different position. Some drawings took up whole pages, while others were small, leaving a few pages littered with different sketches. At this point, Connor was starting to memorize every line and freckle on Hansen’s face. It was definitely a problem. He could try to convince himself that he didn’t have a thing for Hansen, but then he’d look down at a sketchbook full of Hansen’s stupid face, and he couldn’t really deny that his feelings had grown past a simple “he’s cute” to an all consuming vortex of _emotions_ and _daydreaming_ and _staring_ and honestly Connor wanted to punch himself in the face.

He barely even knew Hansen. Hell, he didn’t even know if they were friends. The closest thing he’d had to a friend in high school was Alana Beck, but Alana always called him an “acquaintance,” even after three or so years of hanging out together. Connor was never really sure why Alana hung out with him. Sometimes it seemed like he was her pet project—just another way to look good on college apps, look at this sad stoner kid that I hung out with—but sometimes it seemed like she genuinely enjoyed his company. She was hard to pin down that way, he never _really_ knew her, he just sat next to her and drew while she studied, and sometimes let her pay for a milkshake or something.

Then again, Evan Hansen was nothing like Alana Beck, so maybe it wasn’t the best comparison. Where Hansen was shy, anxious, and could barely hold eye contact, let alone keep a conversation going, Alana was outgoing, bubbly, and would talk your damn ear off. Connor sighed. His latte had diminished to little more than a sad cup of foam and cinnamon. He hadn’t drawn anything, instead he’d let his mind wander. _Stupid Hansen._ _Stupid feelings. Stupid._

 

* * *

 

 

Halloween. Hansen had decorated his half of the dorm in stupid paper cut outs of pumpkins, witches, ghosts, etc. It was midnight, the room was submerged in darkness. The night had been pretty quiet. Hansen watched a movie, Connor sketched him with his face illuminated by his computer screen, and a few hours later, they were both lying wide awake in the dark, listening to the noise outside. _Stupid Halloween_ , Connor thought. 

“Alright, fuck this.”

“W-what?”

“Fuck this lying in the dark pretending to sleep, bullshit.”

“O-okay.”

“You wanna,” Connor hesitated, “Talk?”

“S-sure.” Even in the dark, Connor could _feel_ Hansen’s anxiety. “W-what do you want to talk about?”

“I noticed you had big plans for tonight, huh, Hansen?” Connor smirked, he could just make out the motion of Evan’s head snapping up so fast Connor thought he might get whiplash. “What movie were you watching?”

“M-my m-mom and I, w-we always used to watch _It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown_ , but t-then she got to busy to be h-home, s-s-so now I just watch it by myself.” Connor could hear the sound of fabric tearing, and realized Hansen was pulling a loose thread on his polo shirt. “I-I k-know, it’s dumb…”

“No, no,” Connor couldn’t help but let his lips turn up in a small smile at the vision of a tiny Evan Hansen and his mom curled up watching Charlie Brown. “That’s actually kind of sweet.”

“Oh…I guess…” Evan’s voice wavered. Connor felt like shit. He was terrible at this. _Why can’t you just talk to him like a normal person?_ Connor was about to call it a night, when Evan spoke again. “You didn’t do much either.”

Connor snorted. “No way. I hate Halloween”

Evan seemed surprised, and a little offended, by that answer. Connor got the feeling he liked Halloween, a _lot_. “To be h-honest, I was expecting wild parties and drugs.”

Connor rolled his eyes. Of course Hansen thought that he was planning on getting wasted for Halloween. Connor couldn’t even blame him for that one. “Actually, I’m not much of a party person,” Connor said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. “I do smoke some weed, but that’s more of, um…” Connor fumbled for the right words. “A way to quiet the noise in my head? Make myself feel a little more human, and a little less crazy. Probably not the healthiest of coping mechanisms, but it’s better than nothing. I used to be on antidepressants, but they stopped working…” Connor trailed off, suddenly aware of how much he was probably over sharing. “Sorry, that was probably way more than you wanted to know.”

“No, uh, it’s okay. That a-actually m-makes a lot of sense,” Evan nodded, and Connor was filled with the overwhelming feeling that Evan meant it. Evan _understood_. “Besides,” Evan continued, “We’re friends, right?” Connor could hear the strain and anxiety in Evan’s voice, and it struck him that Evan was just as desperate for connection as he was.

“Yeah.” Connor smiled wide, unabashedly, because he knew Evan couldn’t see it in the dark. “We’re friends.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from the dead!! Evan and Heidi talk again. Evan is an impulsive liar.

For the first time in a week, Evan was alone in the dorm room for most of the afternoon and early evening, because for the first time in a week, Connor had actually left the room for longer than half an hour. Evan felt a little off, at first, with Connor being gone. He was just starting to get used to constantly sharing a space with someone else, instead of just…being alone all the time, like he was at home. Evan’s unease didn’t last too long, though. Being alone was Evan’s natural state. He didn’t have to worry about doing or saying the wrong thing, because there was no one there to judge him. He didn’t have to constantly overthink everything that happened. His thoughts were quietest when he was alone. He could actually focus on things, like homework and reading.  

Except that day, Evan opted for almost the complete opposite. He spent the afternoon sprawled across his bed, laptop open, eyes transfixed on his screen. He was watching Planet Earth. He had the whole series on DVD—Jared had bought it for him as a joke, but the joke was on Jared because Evan ended up loving it and watching it a million times. It was good for when he wanted to turn his brain off for awhile, which was definitely the case in early November. Midterms were happening soon, and as exams inched closer, Evan’s anxiety increased. He’d just finished an episode on baobab trees when his phone rang. He answered without looking at the screen. There was a limited number of people who would be calling him.

“H-hello?”

“Hey, honey!” Heidi Hansen’s voice crackled through the phone.

“Hey, Mom.”

“I’m just getting ready for class, and I thought I’d give you a call, and check in, just see how things have been?”

“Things are fine.”

“Just fine?” She seemed disappointed, her voice wavered before falling flat.

“Midterms are soon, I’m stressed.” That was true, but it was more than that. November was always a hard month for Evan. The days were getting shorter, and the added hours of darkness always swung Evan into a depressive episode--or several.

“Right, right, midterms.” She laughed at herself for forgetting. “What do you have?”

“Essay due in my English class, biology exam, calculus exam, another research paper due in my ecology class,” Evan sighed. “It’s a lot.”

“Sounds like a lot, kiddo.” She paused for a few seconds before hesitantly adding, “Maybe you should try to form a study group for some of your classes.”

The mere thought sent panic coursing through Evan’s veins. “I, uh, d-don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t even know anyone in my classes.”

“Maybe you could try to change that.” She was meant well, she really did, but her phrasing bothered Evan all the same. He _was_ trying, he was trying so hard, every single day, and he wished she could see that.

“I…I am…Trying, I mean. Just the other day, I ordered a coffee.”

“Evan,” the sound of rustling came through the phone, her hair against the receiver, he realized, as she shook her head. “I didn’t mean to push.”

“I know.”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay, and, y’know, happy.”

“I know.” Evan picked at an ingrown hair on his arm, waiting for Heidi to speak again, but she didn’t. Instead they fell into a long silence. Evan wondered if he should say something, but then, what would he say? And maybe he shouldn’t even say anything, because maybe she was just thinking about what to say next and then—his thoughts were cut off my his mother’s voice.

“What about Connor?”

“Wh-what about Connor?”

“Have you talked to him at all?”

“Uh,” Evan wasn’t sure what to say. If he told the truth, that he and Connor were friends, he knew his mom would be ecstatic, but he also knew the barrage of questions that would come. He wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with that. “I talked to him a little, I guess. Small talk.” Besides, he rationalized, he could always tell her the truth over Thanksgiving break.

“That’s something!” Evan could hear the smile in her voice.

“I guess.”

“Don't give up, you'll make friends. I’m proud of you already.”

“Oh, good.” He knew his tone didn’t match his words.

“Well, I only have a few more minutes before I have to leave for class, so before I go, I just wanted to check in with you about Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

“Are you coming home?” 

“Of course I am, Mom,” he said too quickly, “I miss you.”

“Okay, okay, just making sure. Pam from work didn’t see her daughter for the first two Thanksgivings after she went to college.”

“Pam also steals prescription drugs from the clinic." Evan didn't blame Pam's daughter for not wanting to go home to that.

“Fair enough.”

“Will you have Thanksgiving off?” There were some years that she had to work on Thanksgiving, but that usually meant they would have dinner on the Wednesday before, or the Friday after.

“I will! I put in for all three days off, and I did it early, so it’s secure.”

“Cool, cool. Awesome.”

“Well, I should probably go, but we’ll talk again soon. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mom.”

“Bye, honey!

“Bye.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor yells again, and Evan and Connor talk about Zoe.

It was nearly 11 PM on a Tuesday night. Evan was trying to study, but Connor was making that exceedingly difficult. He was talking on the phone, with his mom, Evan had gathered, and it wasn’t going well. Evan didn’t _mean_ to eavesdrop, but, well, Connor was yelling, so it was kind of hard not to hear what he was saying.

“I already told you, I don’t want to come home for Thanksgiving!”

“Because we’ll just fight!”

“Why do you even fucking want me there?”

“Oh, don’t give me that family togetherness bullshit. It’s not like I fit your perfect fucking family image.”

“Don’t you fucking dare bring Zoe into this.” Connor’s voice was starting to tremble with anger.

“Fuck you!” Connor threw his phone across the room. It hit the floor with a loud clatter. Evan must’ve jumped a foot in the air at the sound. He let out an involuntary, and very high pitched squeak. Connor whipped around to look at him, as if he’d just remembered he was there, and then stopped. Some of the anger instantly drained from his face. “Shit, sorry.” 

“I-it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine. I know how loud noises startle you, and I shouldn’t have thrown it," Connor was frustrated, but his voice sounded like he was straining really hard to keep it low and gentle, “and I’m sorry.” 

Evan nodded. “Y-you were mad…It’s okay.” Connor didn’t say anything, he just looked anywhere, but Evan. “Apology accepted.”

“Was that weird? I don’t usually…Apologize…” Connor twisted a lock of hair around his right index finger. “But, well, I thought…since we’re friends.”

“No, y-yeah, that makes sense,” Evan tried his best for a soft smile. “It, was, uh, fine, and I a-appreciate you trying.”

“Cool,” Connor nodded, finally moving across the room to pick up his phone. 

“Do you…” Evan hesitated, not wanting to push things. “Do you w-want to talk about it?” He cleared his throat. “Since we’re friends…”

Connor made it across the room in two wide steps, and stopped just short of his phone. He seemed surprised. “Uh…Okay?” He bent down to pick up the phone, gingerly turning it over in his hand as he rose back to standing, examining it for cracks. From what Evan could see, it only looked mildly damaged.

“So…You were t-talking to your m-mom?” Evan supplied, when Connor didn’t start talking right away.

“Yeah,” Connor nodded, walking back towards his bed, “She wants me to come home for Thanksgiving.”

“And that’s bad?”

“We’ll just fight. What’s the point?” Connor sighed as he threw himself down on his bed. “They’ll be better off without me there. And I’ll be better off not being there.”

“I mean, f-fighting is bad, but,” Evan paused for a moment, taking a breath, and gathering his words, “I-it’s Thanksgiving. Y-you’re supposed to be with family.”

Connor snorted, “Thanksgiving is capitalist fuckery. 'Everyone buy way more food than you need to celebrate the mass murder of Native Americans.' What a fantastic fucking holiday.”

“I mean,” Evan conceded, “You’re not wrong, there. But still.”

“So, what? I go, my dad needles me about all the schoolwork we all know I’m not doing, I start yelling, and everything goes to shit? What’s the point?” Connor’s voice was starting to get an edge to it, but Evan didn’t think it was his fault. Or, at least, he was pretty sure it wasn’t. “They love to pretend that they care about me, but they really don’t. At least, my dad doesn’t. I don’t think I can take three days of listening to them go on and on about Zoe’s accomplishments, followed up with bitching at me for not being a perfect little angel.” Connor shook his head, “What’s the fucking point?” he asked again, a little bit desperate this time.

“Y-your s-sister.” Evan said quietly, before he could stop himself. “S-screw your parents, they don’t matter. I get that. But w-what about her?”

Connor blinked twice before breaking into a bitter laugh. “You think Zoe wants me anywhere near her? After the way I’ve treated her for the past 5 years, I wouldn’t blame her if she never wants to speak to me again.”

“B-but don’t…d-don’t you think it’s worth trying?” Evan was really pushing it, but Connor was still listening, so he kept talking. “I-I mean…Try t-talking to her. Y-you can apologize to me, right? So, w-why n-not her?”

“I don’t think ‘I’m sorry’ is really gonna cut it, here, Hansen.”

“M-maybe n-not, but it’s a start.”

“I guess.” Connor’s eyes were glued to the floor, and Evan was suddenly filled with panic. _You went to far. This is none of your business. Shut the hell up._

“I don’t know…T-think about it?” There were so many things Evan wished he could add. _I can tell how much you love her. Do you really want to give up so easily? You don’t know if you don’t try. I know it’s hard._

“Sure,” Connor acquiesced, though he still looked reluctant, “I’ll think about it.” 

“T-that's good.”

“But no promises, Hansen.”

Evan put his hands up, “N-not asking for a promise.”  The conversation faded quickly. Connor put in his earbuds. Evan cleared off his bed, after looking back at his page of calculus notes and not understanding a word of it, and deciding it was probably time to sleep. Ten minutes later and Evan was settled into bed.

“Goodnight, Connor.”

“Night,” Connor gave a short nod. “And Hansen?”

“Yeah?” 

“Thanks for listening.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been gone a long time, but! I'm coming back with two chapters for the price of one! Please enjoy angstgiving, starring Evan Hansen, Jared Kleinman, Connor Murphy, and Zoe Murphy.

“And this is a cross section of a redwood,” Evan said, handing his phone, with the picture open, to Connor, “Check out the rings.”

Connor nodded, examining the picture, “That’s how you know how old it is, right?”

“Exactly. That tree is over a thousand years old.”

Connor’s eyes widened as handed Evan’s phone back to him, “Well, fuck me. That’s old as shit. Goddamn.”

“I know,” Evan beamed, “Redwoods are insane. I’d love to see one in person, but they’re mostly on the west coast. I found that picture online.”

“That sucks ass. I bet they’re so cool in person.” Connor seemed genuinely interested in what Evan was saying, and in fact he was the one who initiated the conversation. Evan had been reading one of the handful of tree books he’d brought to school when Connor suddenly stood up from his bed, strode across the dorm to stand in front of Evan, and asked what he was reading, which led to Evan babbling about trees, and his second summer as a Junior Park Ranger. There was an off-handed remark about some of the pictures he’d taken, and the next thing Evan knew he was showing Connor a dozen or so tree pictures he had saved on his phone. Evan felt like he’d be talking for too long, but Connor still, somehow, seemed interested. “Do you have anymore pictures?”

“Uh,” Evan scrolled through his photos, looking for another good one, “I think so—” Evan was cut off by a series of texts in rapid succession. Jared. He was trying to Skype Evan, but Evan wasn’t answering. Evan typed out a quick, “ _Sorry. Two minutes?”_ He didn’t look to see what Jared’s response was. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, uh, sorry. Jared, my friend Jared, he’s been trying to Skype me. I should probably call him.”

“Oh,” Connor replied flatly. “Alright. I’ll be listening to music, then.” Connor returned to his bed. Evan waited until his earbuds were securely in his ears before opening his laptop, and calling Jared.

“How the hell were _you_ too busy for _me_?! Since when do you have any kind of life?”

“Good to talk to you, too, Jared,” Evan deadpanned. 

“Hey, I’m serious,” Jared put his hands up. “I was about to call your mom.”

“Funny.” Evan rolled his eyes. “I was talking to Connor.”

“Oh, really?” Jared grinned devilishly, “How _is_ your loverboy?”

Evan blushed scarlet, “He’s not my _loverboy_!”

“If you say so.” 

“We just talked about trees,” Evan shrugged. “Well, I talked about trees. He listened.”

“Loooverboooy,” Jared drawled in a sing-song voice. Evan blushed even deeper.

“Shut up!”

Jared smirked, “Alright, I’ll drop it, but only because I don’t have much time, and I actually called for a reason.”

“Which would be?”

“Thanksgiving break, dude. Are we hanging out?”

“I-if you want to.” Evan shrugged.

“Of course I want to, idiot,” Jared rolled his eyes. “I've got family stuff all day Thursday, so does Friday work for you?”

“Friday is good.”

* * *

 

Thanksgiving break came faster than Evan would’ve liked. Midterms were a blur, and the next thing he knew, he was back home for the first time in months. Everything felt different, somehow. It was all the same small town he knew, the same shops and parks and people, but it was ever so slightly different. Or maybe he was the one who changed. It was hard to tell. He had Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday off, but Wednesday was largely a travel day. He woke up Thursday morning to the clattering of his mother attempting to cook. _Oh no._ He dragged himself out of bed, and shuffled out to the kitchen where a plate of hot pancakes and a glass of orange juice was waiting for him. Pancakes were the one food Heidi Hansen could cook and not screw up. In fact, Evan refused to believe that anyone in the world made pancakes as good as his mom’s pancakes.

“Morning.”

“Morning, kiddo! Happy Thanksgiving! Sit! Eat!” she gestured to the pancakes on the table, before turning back to her frying pan. Evan didn’t need to be told twice. He sat down, smothered his pancakes in syrup, and dug in. His mouth was full of pancake when his mom spoke again. “I was thinking Chinese would be good tonight.”

Evan nodded before swallowing. “Sure. Sounds good.” Evan felt a familiar, dull ache in his chest. He wished that they could have a traditional Thanksgiving for once. He could count on one hand the number of times they’d had a normal Thanksgiving, and most of them were before his dad left. He knew that cooking that large a meal was too expensive, and too much work, and Heidi couldn’t cook, and it was just the two of them, anyway. But he still wanted it.

“So how have you been?” his mom asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Oh, uh…fine.”

“Just fine? How did midterms go?" 

He’d done alright on his midterms. Mostly Bs. “Good.”

“Come on, kid. You have to talk to me.”

Evan sighed, “I know…I’m sorry. I just don’t know what you want me to say. I got Bs on most of my midterms, and one C, in calculus. I’m doing alright.” 

“Evan,” Heidi shook her head, “I just want to know how you’re doing. I want to know that you’re okay. Not just school stuff.”

“Okay,” Evan dragged his fork on his plate, before picking up another bite of pancake. “Well. I made a friend.” 

“You did?! Oh, honey, that’s fantastic.” 

“Y-yeah…” He swallowed, “It’s Connor.”

“Connor…Your roommate?”

“Yeah. We’ve been talking more. He’s actually kind of nice.” Evan thought about Connor listening to him talk about trees, and smiled. He tried to kill the blush he could feel creeping into his cheeks by focusing on his pancakes, shoveling in bite after bite as his mother fired question after question at him. _“What’s he like?” “What do you talk about?” “Where is he from?” “What’s he studying?”_ It seemed never ending, and soon enough, Evan was finished with his pancakes.

* * *

Jared liked hanging out with Evan, he really did, but sometimes it was exhausting. Like, now. They were in Jared’s room, Evan sitting cross legged on Jared’s bed, while Jared sat in his desk chair. Evan was talking about Connor. “I mean, I know he said we were friends, but how do I _know_ that we actually are friends, and he wasn’t just being polite, you know?”

“Christ, Evan.”

“What?”

“Does Murphy really strike you as the kind of person who gives two shits about being polite?” Jared said pointedly. He knew that it was Evan’s anxiety talking, and he hated that there was no way to be louder than the voices in Evan’s head. Even Jared’s most rational arguments didn’t always help. Of course, that didn’t stop him from trying his damnedest.

“N-no, I guess not.”

“And did he or did he not listen to you talk about trees for almost an entire hour and actually seem interested in what you were saying?”

“He did, that’s true, but what if—”

“But nothing, Evan. I don’t even listen to you talk about trees for that long, and we’re best friends. He cares about you.” 

“I guess, but—” Evan froze and looked up at Jared with wide eyes. 

“What?”

“W-we’re b-best f-friends?” Evan was genuinely shocked. Jared’s heart sank a little bit at that. How could Evan not know how much he cared? 

“Of course we are,” Jared said, letting his voice soften.

“But all that ‘family friends’ stuff…” 

“Was a joke, my dude.” 

“Oh.” Evan smiled a little, and Jared’s shoulders slumped in relief. 

“Now, back to my previous point. Connor Murphy wants a piece of that hot tree lovin’ ass of yours, and I’m sure of it.”

“Jared!” Evan blushed bright red, "He does not! It’s not like that.”

Jared rolled his eyes. “You just keep telling yourself that, but I know you’d tap that.”

“I’m serious, Jared. I don’t like Connor. I mean, I like him, just not in that way. I just like him as a friend, and that’s all.”

“You just spent the last half an hour talking about him.” 

Evan scoffed, “That…That proves nothing. I could talk about trees for hours, but that doesn’t mean that I-I, that I want to, like, bang a tree.”

“I honestly have serious doubts about that.”

“ _Jared!”_ Evan wailed, covering his cherry red face with his hands. “I don’t want to have sex with trees! Oh my _God!_ And I don’t like Connor. _”_

Jared cackled. This was too good.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst-giving part 2, return of the angst (AKA: Connor's chapter)

Connor stayed at school for Thanksgiving break, and he hated it. The entire campus felt empty. The only people who stayed behind were those who lived too far away to fly back for such a short time. There was almost no noise outside, or inside, for that matter. It was too quiet. Especially, Connor realized by midday Thursday, without Evan. Connor was adaptable, he got used to new situations quickly, and while in some cases it made dealing with change easier, it also meant that within three weeks of school starting, he was already completely used to Evan’s existence in his space.

Every morning Connor would wake up when Evan woke up, usually around 8 AM, and pretend to be asleep, while Evan shuffled around sleepily, making himself tea (always black tea, always with sugar and lemon), showering, and psyching himself up for the day ahead. Every morning Evan would spend fifteen minutes at his computer, typing up a letter to himself. Connor knew this because Evan would quietly read the letters aloud some days, when he needed it. Evan came back in the midafternoon, usually around two o’clock, and started studying. Or if it was a particularly bad day, watching nature documentaries. He was always tapping his foot, or clicking his pen, or talking to Jared, or mumbling to himself over his homework, or something else to fill the small room with life.

Now, Connor was left with just silence. Silence, and his own thoughts, which cut like razor blades through his brain. You weren’t supposed to be alone on Thanksgiving. You just weren’t. _Sure_ , Connor reasoned, _Thanksgiving is a bogus holiday and we slaughtered the Native Americans_. _Still…_ He thought about Thanksgiving when he was little, before everything started to fall apart.

They used to go over to Cynthia’s sister’s house every year. Aunt Meredith baked the best pumpkin pie in the world, and Connor and Zoe would get to hang out with their cousins, Michael and Clara, who were a couple years older, and therefore inherently cooler. They’d say grace before eating, and then go around and make speeches about what they were thankful for. Cynthia always said the same thing, _“I’m thankful for my family, my husband,”_ and she’d gently pat Larry’s arm, _“My beautiful daughter, Zoe, and my wonderful son, Connor. I love you so much._ ”

They stopped going to Aunt Meredith’s for Thanksgiving when Connor was ten.

Connor pulled his knees to his chest. He thought about smoking to take the edge off, but he didn’t have any weed left. After the last time he ran out, he decided not to buy more. It was…an experiment. He wanted to get clean. Or at least, that’s what he’d been telling himself for the past week and a half. The only thing keeping him from cracking was the effort it would take to hit up his dealer. (Well, dealer might be a strong word. Trevor was more of a casual friend who was old enough to get weed legally.) Today it seemed worth the effort. He picked up his phone and opened his contacts. He scrolled to the Ts, for Trevor. He lifted his finger, and then hesitated. Just a few contacts down—Connor didn’t have many friends—was Zoe.

He thought about what Evan had said, about reaching out to her. It seemed ludicrous. Zoe wouldn’t want to talk to him. Zoe hated him. Still. The more he looked at her name, the more he thought apologizing might not be a bad idea. It wasn’t like he could ruin things more than he already had. He hit her contact number before he could talk himself out of it. He got her voicemail, but he expected that.

“Hey, Zoe. It’s Connor. I, uh, I just, er, well. I’m sitting here alone on Thanksgiving because I knew if I went home it would just be a lot of fucking yelling, but I kind of realized that I miss you. And I know, I _know_ I’ve fucked things up. I know I was shitty to you, and I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me and never wanted to talk to me again. That’s fair. But, I wanted to say that I’m sorry, for everything I put you through. And I know that’s not going to magically fix everything, but I wanted to say it. I’m so fucking sorry, Zoe….I guess that’s all. Happy Thanksgiving. Bye.”

Connor threw his phone down on the bed. _That was stupid._

It took half an hour before Connor got a response in the form of two texts.

 **_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _I don’t hate you._

 **_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _I’m mad as hell. But I don’t hate you._

Connor typed out a quick response. I’m sorry _._

 **_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _Stop apologizing. I get it._

Okay.

**_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _I’m not just going to forgive you._

I know. 

**_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _Wait, you’re not high right now, are you?_

No. I haven’t smoked in a week and a half. 

**_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _Wow. So, what is this?_

Just an apology. I’m trying to be better. I want to be better.

**_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _I’ve heard that before._

It’s different this time. I’m actually doing this for me, and not for Them.

**_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _Okay, I kind of get that._

And I think I have some support. 

**_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _From who? The ghost of rehabs past?_

My roommate, Evan. Who do you think told me to call you? 

**_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _I didn’t really think about that._

I think you’d like him. He’s nice. 

**_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _I’m glad you’re not alone, Connor._

That took Connor by surprise. He didn’t think she’d care. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he settled on: Thanks. 

**_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _I should go, Mom is yelling at me to help her cook._

Okay. 

**_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _We should talk more. I’m still mad, but I…I miss you, too._

All of this can be on your terms. I want to make things right. 

**_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _I believe you. I’ll call you when I can._

Cool. 

**_New Message From Zoe:_ ** _Talk you later, Big Brother_

Bye, Little Sister

 

Connor smiled. It had been years since Zoe had called him “Big Brother.” It used to be a daily occurrence, sort of an endearment. _Maybe_ , he thought, hope welling in his chest for the first time in what seemed like forever, _things are going to be okay._

He picked up his phone again, and deleted Trevor’s number from his contacts.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan doesn't like the winter...At all.

Evan shivered and tried futilely to pull his fleece jacket closer around his torso. It was snowing, because of course it was. He was running late and sleep deprived and he’d already spilled yogurt on his pants and had to change, so of course, it was snowing as he trudged across campus to his 9:00 AM calculus class. Of-fucking-course. It wasn’t that Evan didn’t like the snow. He did. But he preferred to see it from a distance, preferably through a window. Up close it was cold and wet and the flakes always managed to get in his boots or down his shirt. He’d almost considered skipping class that morning, but the anxiety that flared up in his chest just thinking about it forced him out the door. On top of everything, he hadn’t had time to write his letter in the morning, which made him feel even more stressed and out of it. He made it to class with a minute to spare, out of breath and frazzled. He tried to take notes, but mostly he just doodled in the margins of his notebook and tried not to think about how overwhelmed he was. December was always a bad month for Evan, and college made it even worse.

It hadn’t been as bad in high school. In high school, finals had been stressful, but they had been spread out, so he had more time to devote to each one. Now, it seemed like they were all going to happen at once, and he was expected to already be studying, but he hadn’t even learned all the material that he had to know. How could he study things that he hadn’t learned yet? But it wasn’t just finals, or even mainly finals, that bothered Evan about December. No month emphasized family more than December. That was what the holidays were all about, according to…Well. Everyone. But December was when his mom had to work the most. Statistically, there were more accidents during the winter, which meant the emergency clinic was always full to the brim with patients who needed nurses. On top of that, most of her coworkers put in for off time, and Heidi was always the first to volunteer for extra shifts. They always needed the money. 

In December, the bright Christmas lights and cheery holiday specials just served to remind him how alone he was. And his family didn’t even celebrate Christmas! There was Hanukkah, but even before his dad left they hadn’t done much for the holiday beyond lighting the menorah. They stopped doing that after he left, because his mom was never home at night. Evan hated that, but he could deal with it. The real problem arose when Jared would talk about what he got for Hanukkah, or playing dreidel with his cousins, or when Evan would see yet another stupid Christmas movie about the importance of friendship. It was like a slap to the face, saying: _you’re alone, you’ll always be alone._

Evan’s pen tore through his notebook paper, and he realized he’d been scribbling furiously on the top of the page. He put the pen down and attempted to refocus on his lecture, but he had missed too much to make heads or tails of what the professor was trying to say. _You should’ve been paying more attention, not having a pity party, you fucking idiot._ He rubbed his temples gingerly. He was getting a headache. He glanced at the clock on the wall. There were only fifteen minutes left of class. And then he could finally collect himself after that hellish morning. Biology didn’t start until an hour after calculus ended. Fortunately, he wasn’t scheduled for a lab that week. He just had to make it through an hour and a half of lecture. But he didn’t want to think about that yet. He closed his notebook and started slowly sliding his things into his backpack. He didn’t want to stay in the lecture hall any longer than strictly necessary. He bounced his leg as he watched the clock ever so slowly, each tick of the hands seeming belabored: _tick….tick….tick_ …Ten minutes, then 5 minutes…Evan was practically bouncing out of his seat.

“Alright, class dismissed.” It was two minutes early and Evan couldn’t be more grateful. He bolted from his seat and power walked a few blocks away from the classroom before he let himself slow down. He didn’t know where to go. He couldn’t stay outside—it was still snowing—but any shop or café seemed like too much. Too much noise, too much light, too much to take in. He couldn’t go to his usual spot in the woods, because of the snow and ice that was covering the very much closed trails. And going back to his dorm meant interacting with Connor. So that left him shivering on a park bench, trying unsuccessfully to control his breathing enough to calm some of the morning’s anxiety.

It took him awhile to come down from his anxiety—he wasn’t sure how long, time always got a little fuzzy when his anxiety was this high—but eventually he felt calm, or at least, calm _er_. Calm enough to make it through his biology lecture at the least. Calm enough, he reasoned, to not be freezing to death on an icy park bench in the middle of a snow storm. He found his way to the café he’d found near the life sciences building—where his biology class was. He didn’t order anything. He didn’t feel up to talking to the barista. He just sat in a corner attempting to thaw himself out, and hoping the influx of sights and sounds wouldn’t set off his anxiety again.

He pulled out his notebook from his bag, and started to write the letter he hadn’t had time for earlier.

 

_Dear Evan Hansen,_

_Today is going to be a good day and here’s why. Even though this morning has been awful, and you’re cold and already exhausted, and you still have a biology lecture….You survived the morning. You survived calculus. And after biology, you can go back to your dorm and watch Planet Earth and maybe even have a hot chocolate! Mom did buy you those cocoa packets, after all. Why not use them?_

He stopped writing. None of what he’d written was untrue, but it wasn’t genuine. Sometimes he did that. He tried to force out a letter that was better than he actually felt. But that never actually helped him. He turned the page and started again.

 

_Dear Evan Hansen,_

_Today isn’t a good day. Today sucks so far. You woke up late and it ruined everything and even though you have a lot of homework to do tonight, instead you’re just going to curl up and watch Planet Earth because you have no energy left to do anything else. And that’s okay. That’s okay. Doctor Sherman said not to let school take precedence over your mental health, right? You can give yourself one day. You won’t fail your classes if you give yourself one day. Hopefully. I mean, you still need to study and everything, but one day should be okay. Just one day. You’re doing better, overall._

_You_ are _doing better._

_I’m doing better._

_Sincerely,_

_Me_

Evan liked that letter better. He wasn’t sure how much he believed what he’d written, but he wanted to believe it. That’s what the letters were really about, he’d realized. It wasn’t about lying to himself to make his therapist or his mother happy. It wasn’t about trying to be more positive than he actually was. It was about self-reassurance, about telling himself what he needed to hear. His letters were littered with _“you’re enough”_ and _“that’s okay”_ and “ _it doesn’t have to be perfect”_ and while his anxiety didn’t always listen or believe, it helped a little, somehow.

He thought of it like memorizing facts, and how teachers always said if you wrote things down you’d remember them better. It was like every time he was patient with himself in his letters, every time he wrote something positive, another little part of his brain would remember it for next time. Or something like that. It didn’t always work that way, but it worked enough times that he kept writing the letters. And his anxiety was getting better, most of the time. He was leagues better than he was only a little over a year ago, the end of the summer before his senior year of high school. He’d been so close to…Well. Letting go. Ending it all.

It was his mom that pulled him out of that. She found one of his letters, or rather, he’d left it on the kitchen table and she read it, and she was so heartbroken, not only that he was feeling that way, but that he felt that he couldn’t tell her, that he just broke down. He told her everything. And, much to his surprise, she _listened_. She didn’t hate him. She just wanted to help him get better, if it was possible. He was already in therapy and on anxiety medication, but now he was talking about the rest of it, what it was really like in his head, and that made a world of difference. Therapy actually _helped_ , the letters actually helped, at least a little.

They helped enough for him to actually go a few hours away for college. They helped enough for him to form a friendship with Connor Murphy. They helped enough that he thought he might just barely make it through the rest of December. Maybe.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Evan bonding!! Evan is..exceptionally gay in this chapter. Also, you might notice his stutter is a lot more pronounced, that's because his anxiety is high for most of it. He's not in a good head space.

It was another cold, wet December day. Finals were fast approaching, and that day Evan did have a biology lab, which meant he didn’t make it back to room 119 until late afternoon, tired, damp, and stressed. It was only three o’clock, but the way the sky was darkening, it felt like six. Evan hated how short and dark the days were in winter. Connor was hunched over his desk, and he was scribbling away in a notebook, maybe he was drawing, when Evan opened the door.

“Hey,” Connor said casually, looking up from whatever he was doing, when he heard Evan come in. His hair was pulled back in a sloppy bun, save for a small lock of it that he must’ve missed when he put it up, that now hung down and framed his face. Connor looked good—in an objective, aesthetic way—when his hair was up and you could actually see his high cheekbones and defined jawline, not to mention the sparkling blue of his eyes. Evan almost wished he put it up more often.

“H-h-hey.” Evan shrugged his backpack off his back and onto his bed, and sat down at his desk. He didn’t want to study, but he knew he should. He turned away from his books and towards Connor instead. “W-what’re you working on?”

“Nothing interesting.” Connor held up a sheet of graph paper covered in calculations and graphs. “Statistics.”

“S-s-statistics?” Evan furrowed his brow.

“Yeah,” Connor set the paper back down on his desk. “You know, like math? I did alright on the midterm, but I’ve missed so much class that if I don’t do great on the final, I might not pass the class.”

“Oh.” It was all Evan could say. It hadn’t crossed his mind that Connor was studying. It seemed wildly out of character.

“Don’t look at me like that, Hansen,” Connor flashed a lopsided smile, “I’m not a complete delinquent.”

“I’m sorry,” Evan fidgeted with his shirt, twirling the excess fabric around his finger. “I didn’t mean to look at you like that. I should just, I should just—” 

“Dude, breathe. It’s okay. You alright?” Was Evan imagining it or did Connor actually seem concerned? _Maybe Connor did care_ … “You’re even jumpier than usual.”

“It’s just…Finals,” Evan shrugged, trying to seem casual.

“I get that.”

“Y-y-yeah,” Evan nodded. “So I see.”

“I’m just trying to pass. Or get a B. I was talking to Zoe about it and—” 

“You talked to Zoe?!” Evan cut in. _Connor took my advice?!_

“Yeah, I, uh, called her over Thanksgiving break, after we talked. She’s not ready to forgive me, understandably, but she is willing to give me a chance. I don’t want to screw it up. Hence, studying.”

Evan nodded, “Oh.”

“I'm trying to be better, or whatever. Not just studying and stuff, but I’ve been clean since a little over a week before Thanksgiving.” Connor met Evan’s eyes before continuing, “It’s not just about Zoe, either. There are...other reasons.”

“Well, good….” Evan nodded slowly, “You, should, uh, y-y-you, should be doing s-s-stuff for y-y-yourself, too.” He was glad Connor was trying.

Connor seemed slightly disappointed by what Evan said, for some reason, but he shook it off quickly. “Anyways, math comes naturally to me, so I’m not _too_ worried about it. The only reason I’m in statistics instead of calculus like you is because they wouldn’t let me take a class I took in high school, the bastards.” 

Evan chuckled, “I t-t-t-think that’s fair. Isn’t college s-s-s-supposed to be about, like,” he paused, “E-e-e-expanding your horizons and stuff?”

Connor snorted, “I guess. But calculus would be a breeze compared to this bullshit,” he gestured to his 3 inch statistics textbook. “What are the _odds_ that I don’t give a flying fuck?”

“I w-w-w-wish I understood calculus. Y-y-you’re l-l-l-lucky.”

“I could help you study if you want.” It was a simple offer, casual even, but it still took Evan by surprise. _Friends study together, Evan. Say yes._

“T-t-t-that w-would be great.” 

“What time’s good?”

“T-t-t-tomorrow maybe?” Evan fidgeted with the bottom of his polo shirt.

“Sounds good.” Connor gave Evan a small, soft smile, and a flash of nervous energy bubbled up into Evan’s chest. Suddenly, and inexplicably, the idea of studying with Connor became nerve-wracking, which piled on to Evan’s already present anxiety.

He forced the nerves down, and made an awkward attempt to change the subject, “So, uh, if math is your thing, is..er…what are you majoring in?”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Hansen, I said math came naturally to me. Doesn’t mean I want to be a god damn mathematician. I like art.”

“Right. Drawing. Duh. Sorry, that was a stupid question.” Evan felt himself getting red and sweaty. He was like a soggy tomato.

“No worries.” Connor widened his smile, trying to put Evan at ease, but Evan just started to feel…not nauseous exactly, just kind of jittery in his gut.

“Sorry.”

“Like, I said, no worries,” Connor pulled his hair out of the bun, as he spoke, and Evan was momentarily mesmerized by how it cascaded down his shoulders, and he missed whatever Connor was saying. “Uh, Hansen?” Connor snapped his fingers.

“W-what?” Evan blinked a few times. _Was I staring?_

“You zoned out on me there, man,” Connor ran his fingers through his hair, and gathered just his bangs into his stretched out black hair tie. Evan had noticed he did that when he had his hair up for too long, and it was starting to pull, but still wanted it out of his face. “I was just asking what your major was.”

“Oh. E-e-environmental science, and ecology.”

Connor snorted. “I should’ve guessed it would be trees.”

“You like art,” Evan shrugged, “I like trees.”

“Yeah,” Connor said quietly, amusedly, like his mind was some place else, “You do like trees.”

“A-a-and, in my defense, I’m also doing a minor in English.”

“Lit or writing?” Connor asked.

“W-w-writing.”

“Well, aren’t you a modern Henry David Thoreau?” Connor joked.

“W-w-well, aren’t you a uh, a modern, uh, um.” It was at this moment that Evan’s brain refused to supply him with the name of the artist he thought Connor would be. “Uh.” _C’mon, brain. Starry Night. Sunflowers. Super famous._

“Oh, no, take your time.”

“Uh,” Evan swallowed. It was likely just seconds later, though it felt like eons, when his brain finally cooperated. “V-v-v-Vincent Van Gogh!”

“Van Gogh?” Connor furrowed his brow.

“Y-y-yeah,” Evan nodded, letting himself finally return Connor’s smile, “H-h-he was also an emo artist.”

“We’re all emo, Hansen.”

“S-s-sure, but you have to admit, it doesn’t get much more emo than cutting off your own ear in a fit of mania.”

Connor put his hands up, “Touché.”

Evan grinned, finally feeling some of his anxiety start to fade. He wondered how Connor had done that. When he’d walked in the door, Evan was teetering on the edge of panic. And at first, talking to Connor was, predictably, exacerbating it. But then…something happened, and then Connor was smiling at him, and looking at him with gentle eyes, and Evan felt…at ease, or at least, he was starting to feel at ease, because of Connor? _How is that even possible?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S: The Starry Night is one of Connor's favorite paintings. Also, while Evan makes light of Van Gogh, I picked him because he struggled with mental illness and so does Connor. Also, also Van Gogh's paintings have a certain softness about them, because he had some similarities to impressionist painters. Connor is also an Emo Artist with what I imagine to be a very soft art style, with soft lines and smudgy graphite shading.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for a severe panic attack at the end of the chapter...and also for dated Frozen references.

Evan sat nervously on a sagging loveseat in his calculus professor’s office. His leg bounced rapidly, and he picked at a lose thread on one of the couch cushions.

“So, Evan, you’re here about the final?” Professor Thomas asked. David Thomas was a tall, thin man with touches of grey at his temples. He lips formed a hard line through his face. Evan guessed the lines in his cheeks and around his eyes were from frowning, not smiling.

Evan nodded, “Y-y-yeah…” He swallowed before forcing out his next sentence. “I-I-I, I was, um, w-w-wondering, how y-you were going to weight it? L-l-l-like, uh, are you going to grade on a curve, or...uh…something else? ”

“I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to grade on a curve. But I can tell you this. The final exam is the most important part of your grade,” Professor Thomas opened his grade book and skimmed down to Evan’s name, “You have a 74% in the class as of right now, Evan, and if you want to keep your C, you absolutely must get at least an 80% on the final.”

Evan’s stomach dropped. _A B? I have to get a B? I can’t get a B. I barely got a C on the midterm. Fuck. Fuck. I am so fucked._ He mumbled out something about needing to go over the study guide again, and slinked out of Professor Thomas’s office with his shoulders hunched. 

When Evan got back room 119, he barely registered Connor, sitting on his bed, sketching and listening to music. His fuzzy brain wondered briefly what Connor’s art looked like—Connor still refused to show him any of his drawings—but he shook those thoughts out of his head quickly. It didn’t matter. He hung his backpack over the back of his desk chair and collapsed onto his bed. Between Professor Thomas’s office hours and the extra foot of snow the city got the night before, the day had been…less than ideal. All he wanted was to rest. He'd just let his eyes slip shut when All Star by Smash Mouth blasted from his pocket. Evan bolted upright and pulled out his phone, not needing to check the caller ID to know who was calling.

“Hey, dude,” he answered, rubbing one eye with the back of his free hand. “Is everything okay?”

“Hey, yeah,” Jared coughed, “No, everything’s fine. I’m just out for a walk. It’s too loud to talk in my dorm.” Jared had three roommates, so that figured.

“In the middle of December?”

Jared snorted, _“The cold never bothered me anyway,”_ he sang, slightly off-key.

“Did you call me for something important or just to sing Frozen songs at me?”

“Man, lighten up.” Evan could feel Jared’s eye roll through the phone. “You haven’t responded to any of my Skype messages from yesterday.”

“Oh, I’m s-s-sorry…” A small part of Evan’s brain remembered seeing the messages, and deciding to wait until he finished studying for the day to answer them. But he’d been so tired by that point that it took all the energy he had left to drag himself into bed. “I f-f-f-forgot…I just…finals, and stuff...y'know...I mean.”

“No, I mean, it’s cool, I know finals are hell. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, that’s all.” He seemed genuine, and Evan sighed with relief.

“O-o-oh. Okay. I’m…yeah. Fine.”

“As long as you weren’t ignoring me for Tall, Dark, and Broody,” Jared laughed.

“N-no.”

“I don’t know…One minute he’s teaching you calculus, the next he’s teaching you French…” Jared paused for dramatic effect before finishing, “kissing.”

“Jared! Shut up! Connor isn’t going to teach me French kissing! How many times do I have to say it, I’m not into Connor!” Evan snapped. He heard a short choking cough behind him, and turned to see Connor, face flushed, earbuds still in, seeming…unsettled. _Did he hear? Oh, fuck._

“Okay, dude, chill.”

“Y-y-you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, but I’m your asshole, right?”

Evan sighed, but acquiesced. “Y-y-yeah. You’re my asshole.”

“Damn straight.”

“S-s-straight?” Evan asked, raising his eyebrow even though he knew Jared couldn’t see.

Jared chuckled. “Okay. Damn gay, then.”

“Perfect.”

“Listen, I’d love to talk more, but I’m freezing my balls off out here.”

“What happened to ‘the cold never bothered me anyway’?”

“Fuck off, Evan.”

“L-l-love you, too, Jared.” 

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Goodbye, E-E-Elsa.”

“Shut up.” And the line went dead. Evan dropped his phone on his bed and glanced at Connor. He was back to drawing, like nothing had happened. _Maybe he didn’t hear. I hope he didn’t hear. Maybe he doesn’t think I’m a complete freak. Or that I want to French kiss him, because that would be so awkward. And we’d have to talk about it and that would be this whole thing and it doesn’t need to be a thing because it’s not like either of us want to French kiss each other, anyway._

Evan picked up his phone again, checked the time, and sighed. If he didn’t call his mom now, he wouldn’t have a chance of catching her. He debated not calling; the last thing he needed was her barrage of questions and “gentle” reminders, but he dialed his mom’s number anyway.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Oh, hi, honey! You caught me walking out the door to work.”

“That’s okay. Just wanted to make sure I called you. How was class?”

“Same old, same old. What about you? Studying hard?” Her voice carried a forced cheeriness, and Evan wondered why she even tried.

“Yeah, Mom.”

“I know you’re going to do great on your finals.”

“Thanks.”

“Just buckle down for a few more weeks.” She was trying to be supportive, he knew that. But it felt like more pressure, like turning up the stove knob when the tea kettle was already screaming. 

“I-I-I-I’ll try.” He managed. He was starting to feel the beginnings of panic coil up from his gut. He swallowed it down, and waited for his mother to speak again.

“How are things with you and Connor? Still getting along?”

 “Y-y-y-yeah. He’s h-h-h-helping m-me s-s-s-study calculus.”

“Oh, that’s so nice of him!”

“Y-y-y-yeah. C-C-Connor is good at math.” 

“Okay, I really have to go, kiddo,” even through the phone he knew she was pursing her lips in that way of hers. He was all too glad to be ending the conversation.

“B-b-b-bye, Mom.” Evan hung up quickly and pulled his knees to his chest. His mind was starting to swirl in that way it always did before a panic attack, unfinished thoughts and fragments of moments seemed to form a vortex in his head that destroyed any and all rational, coherent thought like a twister. Evan attempted to cling onto the last bit of rationality he had: _Deep breaths, deep breaths. In for 10, hold for 6, out for 10. Like Doctor Sherman told you._ But that didn’t last long.

_You’re going to fail calculus. You can’t get a B on the final. You’re not that smart. You’re so stupid. You’re going to disappoint everyone. You’re going to disappoint your mom, who works so hard to send you to school, and for what? So you can fail? You’re a failure. A complete failure._

It was hard to breath, his throat was tight and his chest felt heavy. His ears were ringing, and his vision was blurred.

_I can’t breath. I can’t breath. I can’t breath. Can’t see. Can’t hear._

He was vaguely aware of the tears streaming down his cheeks, of how he was shaking like a wet chihuahua, but he was too lost in his own mind to be fully in control of himself, or even a little in control of himself.

_You’re a failure. You deserve to die. Everyone hates you. Everyone will always hate you. No one will ever truly love you. Failure. Failure. Failure. Why are you letting Connor waste his time tutoring you? You’re just going to fail. You’re going to disappoint him like you disappoint everyone. Not that it matters, because he probably already thinks you're a fucking freak._

Evan forced out a harsh breath.

_Stupid fucking failure._


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor trying to be comforting, but mostly being gay.

Connor was trying to focus on his drawing, and not on his roommate, but that was difficult when it was yet another drawing of said roommate. Every so often he’d look up at Hansen, who was sitting on his bed, back against the wall, cell phone held to his ear. Connor was shading the bags under Hansen’s eyes—which were darker and more pronounced than usual—when Hansen practically yelled something into his phone. Connor paused his music just in time to hear the second half of Hansen’s sentence. _“I’m not into Connor!”_ Connor choked on his inhale, and Hansen snapped his head up to look at him, wide-eyed. _Shit._

Connor tried to refocus on his drawing, and ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. It’s not like he wasn’t already keenly aware of the fact that he had a snowball’s chance in hell with Hansen, but hearing him say it out loud with such force did sting a little. Any bubble of hope that may or may not have grown in Connor’s chest whenever he caught Hansen staring at him was forcibly popped. Connor closed his sketchbook and turned his music up as loud as he could. He was still clean—he’d passed the three week mark just a few days earlier, in fact—which left blasting his eardrums out with rock music so loud he couldn’t hear himself think as his last coping mechanism. He let the music wash over him for a few minutes, relishing in the loud crescendos and guitar riffs that were his favorite part of the genre. It was nice not to think for a few minutes, or at least, until the song came to an end, and he heard a heavy breath in the pause before the next one started. 

He slowly removed an earbud and looked up at Hansen, who was now curled into himself, his phone at his side. “Hansen?” Connor asked, as gently as he could. “Are you alright?” But Hansen didn’t look up. Connor pulled out his other earbud. “Hansen?” He asked again. Hansen still didn’t respond. He just took another shaky breath. His breath hitched a little, and Connor realized he was crying. _What the fuck is wrong with him? What the fuck do I do?_ Connor slid off his bed, slowly, and took a step towards Evan’s bed. “Evan?” He asked, this time even softer. Evan still didn’t look up. He just took another harsh breath. Connor crossed the room hesitantly, he didn’t want to make Evan’s…Whatever it was...Worse. He made it to the edge of Evan’s bed, and bent down to meet his eye. That was when Evan seemed to notice him. Connor wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

“C-C-Connor?” Evan choked out, finally lifting his head. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks streaked with tears. Connor tensed at the sight of him so vulnerable, and wanted more than anything to reach out and wipe Evan’s tears away. And then he wasn’t wanting it, he was doing it, before he could even think about it. Evan’s eyes widened as Connor’s hand cupped his cheek, but he didn’t recoil. “I-I-I-I,” Evan tried to speak again, but he was cut off by his own sobs and uneven breath.

“It’s okay,” Connor dropped his hand, and slid onto Evan’s bed. “It’s okay, Evan.” Evan looked up at him, hazel eyes watery with tears and emotion, and crumbled once again. Connor wrapped his arms around Evan, because honestly he wasn’t sure what else to do. At first, Connor thought it might’ve been a bad idea, based on how Evan immediately tensed up, but after a few seconds Evan, reciprocated the action, clutching at Connor’s jacket. Connor felt sort of stiff and awkward. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him so tightly. The touch was odd, and unfamiliar, but not exactly bad. No, not bad at all. Evan’s breathing was ragged as he gulped down breaths between sobs. _That really can not be good for his body,_ Connor thought, _I have to help him._

Connor moved one of his arms, which were wrapped around Evan’s torso, so that his hand would be on Evan’s back, and moved it in slow circles. When Connor was a kid, his mother used to calm him down that way. He wasn’t sure if it would work for Evan’s anxiety, but it was the only thing that came to mind. “It’s okay, Evan,” Connor whispered, careful to keep his voice low, “It’s going to be okay.”

They sat like that, Evan sobbing and shaking like a leaf, Connor doing his damnedest to calm him down, for almost an hour, before Evan’s breathing seemed to even out a little. The tremors in his body weren’t quite as obvious. “C-C-Connor, I…” He managed to say, “Y-y-you, you don’t have to…” He trailed off, and it was obvious that he was riling himself up again.

“Evan, Evan, it’s okay,” Connor insisted, the firmness of his voice unwavering. “I promise, if I didn’t want to be doing this, I wouldn’t. Okay?”

“O-o-o-okay.” Evan nodded.

“Just try to control your breathing,” Connor instructed, still rubbing slow circles on Evan’s back. Evan took a deep breath and held it in for a few seconds before breathing out, he repeated that a few times. Connor guessed he’d learned a breathing technique from his therapist by the specificity of his breath. “Good.”

Connor didn’t get Evan all the way down for a couple more hours. What Connor didn’t expect was that Evan would almost immediately start falling asleep. Connor laid him down, as he drifted off, and stayed next to him, still holding him. Connor planned to move back to his own bed once Evan fell asleep, but when he tried to sit up, he realized that Evan’s arms were still very much around him.

There was no way he could get out of the bed without waking Evan up. Which wouldn’t necessarily be the end of the world, but he just looked so calm in his sleep. It was such a change from the boy who was always so on edge it almost seemed like he was vibrating. Connor couldn’t bring himself to disturb him. And, honestly, it seemed like a bad idea, considering he’d spent so long trying to calm Evan down.

So Connor stayed next to Evan, facing the other boy as he slept. At some point, although he couldn’t tell you when, Connor drifted off as well. Evan’s arms were warm and comforting, and he smelled like a pine tree forest. There were worse ways to fall asleep.

There were, however, much better ways to wake up. Connor woke up alone in Evan’s bed. Evan wasn’t even in the room, for that matter. _Weird for a Saturday,_ Connor thought sadly, _I probably freaked him out. Damn it._


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some resolution....

Waking up in Connor Murphy’s arms was surprisingly pleasant at first. Connor’s temperature ran warm, so for the first time in months, Evan wasn’t freezing when he woke up. Evan always liked the feeling of being held, it always made him feel safe and cared for, and that morning was no exception. At least, for a few moments, until the full reality of the situation set in. Because the arms around him were _Connor Murphy’s_ and the only reason they were there was because he’d had a panic attack the night before, and Connor…Connor must’ve pitied him, or been annoyed by his incessant sobbing, or something. Evan slid out of his bed as quickly and quietly as he could, careful not wake Connor—though that wasn’t hard, Connor slept like a rock.

Evan was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, so he just threw on his boots, grabbed his keys, phone, and jacket, and quietly crept out of the room, and into the frigid winter air. He wandered a bit, snow crunching underfoot, unsure where he was going to go. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be there when Connor woke up. In fact, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to speak to Connor Murphy again, _ever_. Connor surely didn’t want to talk to him, either. Not after seeing _that_. No one had seen Evan that bad before, not even his mother. Evan groaned inwardly. _No one could see that quivering, sobbing mess and still care. I can’t even handle a few finals and a phone call from my mom without breaking down. What a joke._

Evan shuddered to imagine what Connor must think of him. Connor probably wanted nothing to do with him; he probably thought Evan was a complete freak. He’d just have to avoid Connor until winter break. There were only a couple more weeks left, and most of that would be time spent studying in the library. It wouldn’t be too hard.

And even if it was, it was still a better option than talking to Connor.

 

* * *

 

The next two weeks went by slowly. Evan tried to focus on his schoolwork, but every time Connor was around, everything felt tense and awful.

“I c-c-can’t believe I already ruined this friendship,” Evan complained to Jared during a Skype call. “A-a-a-actually, I can. Because I suck.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.” 

“Y-y-y-you weren’t there,” Evan shook his head, “It was b-b-b-bad.” 

“Evan, believe me. I’ve seen bad. I saw you try to talk to Olivia Williams in trigonometry in our junior year of high school. I’m sure whatever happened can’t be worse than trying to use triangles as pick-up lines.”

“This w-w-w-was way worse.” Evan buried his face in his hands. “W-w-what am I gonna do, Jared?”

Jared sighed, “Just…I don’t know, talk to him?”

Evan snorted.

“Okay, whatever. Don’t talk to him. I have to go.”

As soon as the Skype call closed, Evan let his head fall on his desk. _Is Jared right? Should I talk to Connor? But what if he’s a dick about it? I think I’d rather not hear how much he hates me._

 

* * *

 

It was the last night before the dorms closed for winter break. Evan was almost packed up—he didn’t have much—and he hoped to leave first thing in the morning. Connor seemed barely packed, but that didn’t really surprise Evan. Connor had been gone since the early afternoon, which suited Evan just fine. Evan felt like he could breathe for the first time in weeks. Plus, his finals were over. It was just him, the last packet of instant cocoa, and Planet Earth. Until around 8 PM when Connor burst through the door carrying a small, potted Bonsai tree. 

“Hansen, we need to talk,” he announced, striding over to his desk to set the tiny tree down, as gingerly as he could. Evan felt all the blood drain out of his face. 

“O-o-okay…” Evan pulled nervously at a lose thread on his khakis.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Connor started, sitting down on his own bed, across from Evan. He seemed uncertain, but determined.

“I—”

“No, let me finish.” Connor took a deep breath and pushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “I know, I probably overstepped by boundaries, and I’m sorry.” _He’s sorry? What in the world is_ he _sorry for?_ “But I couldn’t just sit there while you had a full breakdown in front of me. I care about you, and I don’t know. Only a complete asshole wouldn’t at least _try_ to help, and I like to think I’m not, y’know, a total dick.” 

“Connor, I…” Evan trailed off, realizing he had no idea what to say. Connor winced, like he was bracing himself. “Y-y-you didn’t, um. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was…It was good of you to help me.”

Connor blinked twice. “Oh.” Evan looked down at the floor. “Then…Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“I thought…” Evan forced himself to meet Connor’s eyes, “I-I-I…I’ve never, um…er, ah…N-n-no one’s ever seen me like that. I t-t-t-thought, I thought you’d hate me, after seeing…a-a-after seeing how much of a mess I am.”

Connor’s eyes widened, “Oh,” he said again, softer this time. He glanced to the side for a moment, before looking back at Evan, seemingly having made some kind of decision, which brought him to his feet. And then he took off his jacket. Evan had never seen Connor without that ratty black coat on, but he’d never really thought that there might be a reason for that. It just seemed natural, like orange leaves in the fall.

“W-w-what are you d-d-d-doing?” Evan asked, as Connor strode across the room and stopped square in front of him. 

Connor thrust his arms toward Evan, palms up. “Look.” Evan did as he was told, and saw scars running horizontal, up and down both of Connor’s forearms. Most of them seemed old, but there were a few that couldn’t be more than a month old. _Oh._

“Y-y-you…” Evan didn’t want to finish. He’d never actively self harmed, but he thought about it…He thought about it a lot. Too much. He felt slightly sick at the idea of Connor ever feeling that way.

“Through most of high school,” Connor nodded, sitting down next to Evan. “I don’t do it as often as I used to, only when things are really bad. But look. You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m not going to just stop caring about you over something like this. Your friendship is the best thing that’s happened to me in a really long time, Evan.”

Evan felt his eyes start to water involuntarily. “Oh.” Connor put an arm around Evan’s shoulder and pulled him in closer.

“I was the kid in high school who was known for three things: smoking pot, throwing a printer in the second grade, and being found in the park after intentionally overdosing on prescription medication. I’m just as, if not more, messed up than you, okay?”

Evan nodded, “Okay.”

“We’re friends, okay? Friends are there for each other.” 

“That’s true.” Evan leaned into Connor, waves of relief washing over him. They fell into a comfortable silence, before Evan’s eyes found the bonsai tree sitting on Connor’s desk. “What’s that?”

“Oh,” Connor’s lips pulled up in a small smile and he jumped up to get it. “It was kind of a peace offering, since I thought you were mad at me,” he picked up the plant, brought it over, and shoved it toward Evan, stiffly, “but, since that’s not the case, I guess…Merry Christmas?”

“I’m Jewish…”

“Happy Hanukkah, then.” 

“Hanukkah ended a week and a half ago.” Evan felt a little awkward receiving gifts for basically no reason. The tree was beautiful, though.

“Just take the damn tree, Hansen.”

“O-okay,” he took the pot from Connor’s hands and held it on his lap. “Thank you.”

“I know you like trees, so I thought…I don’t know."  

“Is this where you’ve been all day?”

“Turns out the nearest place with these stupid things is two hours away,” Connor shrugged, “Of course, it took going to three nurseries close by before someone told me that.”

“You went to all that trouble just to get this for me?” Evan’s voice was small and shaky. He was stunned. “That’s…Connor, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. Ever.”

“So you like it?” Connor was bouncing just slightly. It hadn’t occurred to Evan that his astonishment wouldn’t be obvious to Connor as a _good_ thing.

“Connor,” he looked up at Connor, still standing over him, and beamed, “It’s a tree. Of course, I love it.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back, back again? (Jared. The answer is Jared. Also me.)

The Story Shop was probably Evan’s favorite place—besides maybe his bed. It was just a small, locally owned bookstore, with a vast selection of mostly cheap, dusty, used books. Evan loved used books. There was always a mystery that went along with the bent covers and yellowed pages. Who was the original owner? How many different people owned it before it fell into his hands? And he got a certain amount of pleasure out of finding old, abandoned things and giving them new life. Evan couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually bought a new book.

He stood outside the store, shivering slightly in the sharp, December air, waiting for Jared, who was, in typical fashion, already fifteen minutes late. Jared Kleinman couldn’t show up on time to save his life. It was a wonder he even made it to his classes. According to Aaron Kleinman—patriarch of the Kleinman family—it came from his wife’s side of the family. Jared claimed he liked being “fashionably late.” Evan pulled out his phone to check the time for the umpteenth time, and maybe shoot Jared a quick “where are you” text, when he heard a voice from his left.

“Sup, Nerd?” Jared greeted. Evan looked up, shoved his phone in his pocket, and took in Jared’s appearance. He was wearing a stocking cap, two thick coats, and a scarf. His mother must’ve forced the extra winter wear on him before he left. 

“Hey, Jared,” Evan nodded, stifling a smirk. Jared gave Evan a look that said _“not a damn word”_ and moved to push open the door.

“Can we go in? It’s fucking freezing.” Jared walked in first, shedding one of his coats, and his hat, which he shoved in the canvas book bag Evan was carrying. “Why are we here, anyway?”

“I need books, obviously.” Evan rolled his eyes.

“Well, no shit. What books specifically?” Jared asked. 

“Uh,” Evan glanced around, looking for the garden section. He found it rather quickly, and made a beeline, Jared in tow. “Here. These ones.” 

Jared groaned. “More tree books?”

“Sort of.” Evan scanned the spines of the books on the shelves in front of him—shrubbery maintenance, roses, pruning, landscaping, grass and lawn care—and then finally he saw it. Bonsai trees.

“Bonsai? Since when do you have a bonsai?” Jared snorted. “Not that I’m surprised.”

“It’s new.” There were only four books, all used, all marked down, and all slightly worse for wear. But they’d do. Evan grabbed all four of them and dumped them into the book bag.

“You’re out of your mind,” Jared laughed, wandering toward the sci-fi section. Evan followed without question.

“It’s not like I bought it for myself,” Evan protested, “I’m just trying to take care of it.”

Jared stopped. “Who the hell bought you a bonsai tree?” 

“Um.” Evan looked at the floor, realizing he’d said too much. 

“Don’t tell me it was a Hanukkah gift from Heidi,” Jared smirked. “That’s a bit much, even for her.” Jared paused, taking in Evan’s flushed cheeks and bowed head. “Wait.”

Evan could almost see the gears turning in Jared’s head.

“Oh. My. God,” Jared burst out, “Connor bought it for you, didn’t he?”

Evan, eyes still trained on the stone floor, nodded slowly.

“Incredible,” Jared grinned. “But I thought you guys were on the outs? What happened? You won him over with your awkward charm, didn’t you?”

Evan finally lifted his head. “It was a…a peace offering. He, um, h-h-he thought that I was mad at him. Which is ridiculous.”

“And his solution was a bonsai?”

Evan shifted uncomfortably under Jared’s prying gaze. “I like trees.”

“Oh my god. How did he even find the thing?”

“Oh, er, there’s a place a couple hours away from campus…” Evan fidgeted nervously. He hated the mischievous glint in Jared’s eye.

“A couple hours? That boy drove two hours out of his way _just_ to buy you a glorified baby tree?” Jared’s voice went up an octave, “Seriously?” 

Evan just nodded. 

“Jesus H. Christ. If you don’t grab him by his stupid school shooter jacket and passionately make out with him, I swear to God, I’ll do it for you.”

“Jared!” Evan burned with embarrassment. “You can’t do that!”

“Why not?” Jared raised an eyebrow, like this was just the reaction he wanted.

Evan stumbled over his words. “Well, uh…” _Because it would be weird? Because Connor is Connor, and you’re Jared? Because…because…_ Well, Evan wasn’t entirely sure why the thought of it made his stomach churn the way it did. Eventually he settled on a simple, “Don’t you have a boyfriend? The Ryan Reynolds looking guy?”

“I have a friend, who is a boy, who I make out with a lot and sometimes he buys me dinner, but I do _not_ have a boyfriend.” 

“Jared…That’s the definition of a boyfriend.”

“Stop deflecting and just admit that you don’t want me to kiss Connor because you like him. We both know it’s true.”

“For the thousandth time, I don’t like Connor and he doesn’t like me.”

“Remind me again, how many hours did he drive for a stupid tree?”

“Jared!” Evan snapped. “ _Stop_.” There was something forceful, though still very much uncertain, about Evan’s voice, and Jared knew him well enough to know it was time to back off. Jared was a dick, but he understood boundaries.

“Whatever you say,” Jared shrugged, turning around to focus to the campy paperbacks behind his back, “But denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.”  

“Says the guy who won’t admit he’s got a boyfriend.”

Jared pinched the bridge of his nose and turns back around. “He’s not my boyfriend. Just because we hang out all the time and once we held hands, and maybe sometimes I imagine our future together…None of that makes it a relationship.”

“Sure,” Evan pulled a hardcover copy of _The Time Machine_ off the shelf. It was a nice edition. If he cared about the novel at all, he probably would’ve bought it. But he didn’t, so he slid it back in it’s place.

“Look, relationships mean work. They mean fighting, and making up, and sacrificing things for each other,” Jared sighed, “And they mean more chances to mess it up. Right now, Patrick and I are having fun. I don’t want to mess that up.”

“But,” Evan said hesitantly, “Don’t you want something real?”

“Maybe,” Jared admitted, “Maybe I do want that, maybe I want that more than I’m willing to admit, and that scares the shit out of me.” It was a rare moment of sincerity from Jared, but he didn’t let his words hang in the air for very long before adding, “Besides, I could never bring home a Catholic boy.” 

Evan shook his head and made his way to the cashier to buy his bonsai books. He hated to already be dipping into the money Grandma Hansen sent him for Hanukkah, but he hadn’t worked in months. He was pretty much broke. And he _really_ needed these books. He had no idea how to care for something and beautiful and delicate as a bonsai tree. 

Bonsai trees were not like the grand, tall, strong trees of the forest, which Evan was used to. Those trees were wild, big enough to hold Evan, but nonetheless deserving of respect. One wrong move, one snapped branch, and he was on the ground. Forest trees didn’t _need_ Evan the way the bonsai would; forest trees kept living and growing with or without Evan. There was no danger of being hurt by a bonsai, not in the same way, but a bonsai needed to be loved, to be cared for, to be nurtured. Keeping the tiny tree happy and healthy would be an incredible amount of work, but he couldn’t let it die. It was too important. He loved it too much already.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a double upload! Connor sees his psychatrist, and maybe makes some headway with Zoe. Galaxy gals, if you feel like interpreting it that way, but I'm pretty indifferent to it.

“So, Connor,” Doctor Marshall, his old psychiatrist from high school, said looking up from the questionnaire she’d had Connor fill out in the waiting room. “You hated me when I saw you in high school. You were exceptionally resistant to therapy. Now you’re here out of your own volition. Why the change of heart?”

Connor had expected this question. He leaned back in the stiff chair and recited his prepared response. “I want to be better, you know? I figured a shrink that already knew all my shit would be easier than starting fresh.”

Doctor Marshall nodded. “What do you mean by ‘better,’ exactly?”

“I don’t know. Less angry? More in control. I want to fix things with Zoe,” Connor ran a hand through his messy hair. “I guess I want to learn how to be human again.” Connor had felt more like a shadow of a person than an actual, breathing human for years. He was tired of it.

“I think that’s doable, Connor,” Doctor Marshall looked at him over her horn rimmed glasses, “Providing you’re willing to put in the work, of course.”

“I am,” he rushed to assure her. “I’ve been clean since November, and I already reached out to Zoe, to, y’know try to fix things.” Connor took a deep breath. He didn’t like sharing the details of his life with people he barely knew, but in this case, it had to be done. “We didn’t fight over Christmas dinner, for once. Or Christmas Eve, for that matter. It’s…It’s been almost bearable to be home.” They weren’t exactly on friendly terms, but they were civil, and that was enough for now. He couldn’t really ask for more from her.

“I’m impressed, Connor. You never seemed motivated to improve in the past.”

“Well, I…” Connor was suddenly at a loss for words. Did he tell her that most of his motivation came from his feelings for his roommate? Probably not. He settled on a nonchalant, “People change,” and a shrug. 

“Very well,” Doctor Marshall scribbled something on her clipboard. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready, I suppose.” 

Connor didn’t respond.

“Tell me about your life, Connor.”

“Uh,” Connor picked at the nail polish on his left index finger. He hated this part. He hated talking about himself. “I’m at school. I actually made it to college.”

“That’s good. How are your grades?” It wasn’t a judgmental question, there was no pressure to have As. It was simple curiosity, for once.

“Passable.”

“What about friends? Any friends?” 

Connor finished picking the polish off his index finger, and moved onto his bird finger, before looking up to answer her question. “One. My room mate. Evan Hansen.”

“Tell me about Evan.”

“Hansen is nice. And kind of funny, when he’s not too anxious—he has an anxiety disorder—and he puts up with me, so major points there. He likes trees. Also dogs. And sunny days. He’s sort of a loner, too, but in a different way.” Connor didn’t add that sometimes it felt like he and Evan were broken in just the right way to fit together perfectly. “He’s also sort of a nerd.”

“You care about him a lot.” It wasn’t a question.

“He’s my friend.” He cared about Evan so much. The more he got to know Evan, the more he cared. There was so much in him, somehow, because of Evan. He felt like he might burst with how much he felt. He wasn’t sure he could call it love, but whatever it was, it was stronger than any crush.

“Of course.” Doctor Marshall jotted something else down on her clipboard. “Would you say he’s a good support system for you while you’re at school?”

“I mean, he’s the one who got me to talk to Zoe, so…I guess.”

“Good. It’s important to have a support system.”

Connor nodded, “He’s great." 

“It’s good you’ve made a social connection while you’ve been at school.”

“I guess.”

Doctor Marshall glanced at her watch, “We’re running out of time, so I want to talk to you about the possibility of medication.”

“Okay…” This was new.

“I diagnosed you with bipolar disorder when you were in high school, and based on what you put in your questionnaire, and what you’ve said today, I stand by that.”

“Bipolar?” His parents never told him that. A wave of rage rolled over Connor. _There was an explanation besides ‘crazy’ or ‘special’ the whole time? They knew? And they didn’t fucking tell me? What the fuck? They just let me think I was broken and unfixable this whole damn time._

Doctor Marshall must’ve noticed the way his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists. “Your parents didn’t tell you.” She seemed horrified.

“Nope,” Connor snapped.    

“I’m so sorry, Connor. Bipolar is responsible for your highs and lows—why some days you’re able to draw and draw without stopping, or alternatively, why sometimes you can’t seem to control your anger, that’s the mania, and why some days you can barely get out of bed—and the erratic mood swings." 

“Oh,” Connor said lamely.

“When you were still a minor, after the failure of the antidepressants, your father didn’t want to put you on any medication,” she continued, “I think you would benefit from mood stabilizers. You’re 18 now, so it’s up to you." 

Connor nodded slowly. _Better than pot, I guess._

Doctor Marshall scribbled out a prescription. “I also want you to try to socialize more while you’re back in town.” 

Connor took the prescription note, and tried to listen as Doctor Marshall described the possible side effects of the medication, but his mind was elsewhere.

_I wonder what else my parents kept from me?_

 

* * *

 

It was the second Tuesday in early January, just days after Connor’s appointment with Doctor Marshall. He was bored to tears. He was tired of listening to music, he had no inspiration to draw, and he’d already read all the books on his shelf at least twice. He thought about Doctor Marshall’s words.

_Socialize more._

He pulled out his phone and shot a text to Alana Beck, the only person he could potentially call a friend in town.

 

Hey, you around? Want to hang? 

**New Message from Alana:** _ I’d love to! I’m volunteering at the animal shelter today, but my shift ends in half an hour.  _

Cool. Come over when you get off. 

**New Message from Alana:** _ See you soon!  _

 

Connor tossed his phone on his bed and crossed the hall to Zoe’s room. He knocked on the door gently. “Hey, Zoe? It’s Connor.” 

“Come in.” Her voice wasn’t sharp, but it was guarded.

“Alana is coming over,” Connor chewed his lip. “You, uh…You want to hang out with us? You don’t have to, but I thought it might be fun.”

Zoe considered it for a moment, before nodding. “I guess, it’s a start.”

“Is…Is that a yes?”

“Only because I like Alana.” 

And so, a few hours later the three of them were camped out in the Murphys’ living room with a family size bag of Cheetos and a six pack of hard lemonade. The lemonade had softened Zoe a little, and Connor knew he was buzzed, but Alana had opted for water instead. _Of course._ Zoe was sprawled across the couch, with her socked feet resting on Alana’s lap. Alana didn’t seem to mind. Connor sat cross legged on the floor, craning his neck to look up at them.

Alana had filled the siblings in on all the cool, important crap she did at her fancy Ivy League school. Connor mentioned his art class, and bitched about statistics. Zoe mostly complained about college apps. The conversation was beginning to lull, until Alana turned her steely gaze on Connor. “You mentioned your roommate, Evan, right? Tell us about him.”

“Yeah, Connor,” Zoe smirked, “Tell us about the boy who convinced you to finally apologize to me over Thanksgiving.” 

“Hansen is great. He likes trees.” 

“That’s it?” Zoe rolled her eyes and took a swig of her lemonade. “I thought he was your friend.”

Connor looked between them, their eyes hungry for details, and sighed “Okay, fine. His favorite food is peanut butter, and his favorite color is blue. He has seasonal allergies, but he still loves late Spring and early Summer the best of all. He really wants to go to California and see the old growth red woods.” Connor knew he was rambling, but he could blame the alcohol. “He used to paint his mom’s nails when he was a kid. He watches fucking nature documentaries to relax. He’s kind enough to care about me despite, well. Everything. He blushes an obscene amount, and it’s incredibly endearing.” Connor couldn’t stop himself from the affectionate smile that spread across his face. “And he’s got these freckles…and his eyes, his eyes are nice. They’re bright and hazel, and they crinkle when he smiles—”

“Okay, okay, enough,” Zoe laughed. “God.”

“Connor,” Alana stated carefully, “You like him, don’t you?”

Connor actually blushed. “I…”

Zoe’s eyes lit up. “You do!”

“Well…” Connor took a sip of his lemonade for courage, “Yeah. I like him a lot.” It felt liberating to say it out loud. “Fuck. That felt good to say…I like Evan Hansen,” he said again, “I really like him.”

“I can’t believe it,” Zoe laughed. Connor couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed because of something he said. “Big bad Connor Murphy is in looove.” She drawled out the last word sarcastically. 

“Okay, love is a strong word.” But the persistent red of his cheeks betrayed him. 

“What about him?” Alana asked. “Do you think he likes you back?”

Connor snorted, “Absolutely not.” There was no way Evan Hansen felt anything but friendship for Connor. He could still hear how vehemently Evan had yelped, “I'm not into Connor!” into his phone, though he’d known it before then. Evan was a sun, bright and beautiful, and Connor was just a cold, dark moon.

“I’m sorry,” Alana said, voice overflowing with sympathy.

 _At least,_ Connor thought sadly, _I get to stay in his orbit._


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New OC alert! I hope you guys like her.

Evan bit his nails as he waited for the first class of the first day of spring semester to start. It was a bad habit, one his mother had tried to help him kick with that clear nail polish that tastes like death, but as soon as he ran out of polish, the habit had come back in full force. He hated how jagged it always made his nails look, but he just couldn’t help the compulsion, especially when he was anxious.

Which he usually was.

But the first day was always the worst. He never knew if the students were going to be nice, if the professor was going to make sense, if the structure of the class was going to work with his brain…All he had was a reading list, if he was lucky, and maybe a syllabus, if the professor knew how to work an email account. He sat stiffly in his chair, watching the other students file in. Some looked absolutely miserable to be starting their semester with an 8 AM American Lit class, some looked like they’d just downed twelve cups of coffee, and others just seemed numb and unaffected.

A tall girl, with long, shiny black hair and dark brown eyes, took a seat next to Evan. She was wearing a strong, fruity perfume, and wore a dark shade of purple on her eyelids. She was holding a coffee that was probably the largest size you could possibly get at a coffee shop, and her book bag had a giant rainbow on it. Evan was somewhat in awe of her. She clearly wanted to be seen, and did everything in her power to stand out, to be bold. Evan wished he had the courage to put himself out there that way.

“Hi!” She greeted him, her voice just as bubbly and loud as her appearance.

“H-hey.”

“Have you had Professor Jackson before?” she asked, pulling her shiny black hair up into a high ponytail. As she did, Evan noticed she had long, sparkly, fake nails, in a light shade of sky blue.

“N-n-no,” Evan shook his head. “H-h-have you?”

“No, but I hear she’s a hardass."

“Oh God, I hope note” Evan shrugged.

She shrugged in a way that seemed to suggest it didn't make one iota of a difference if the professor was a hardass. 

Evan wasn’t sure to say to that, but luckily, he didn’t have to think of anything, because Professor Jackson called the class to attention. She started right in on the syllabus, and her expectations, and Evan definitely got the feeling she wasn’t the professor to mess with. Like…at all. She had a head full of grey hair and a permanent grimace on her face, even when she attempted a few awkward jokes. She was efficient, though, and she explained herself well. Evan would at least be able follow her lectures, and that was really the important thing.

Professor Jackson finished going over the syllabus with about a half an hour left of class, so she started lecturing on the first book on the reading list. Evan was only half listening. Mostly he was doodling in the margins of his spiral notebook and staring out the window. His doodles didn’t look like much besides scribbles, but it was an outlet for his anxious energy that didn’t annoy everyone around him, like bouncing his leg normally did, so he’d trained himself into it.

He let his mind wander as he gazed out the window. He thought about Connor. It was good to see him again after a few weeks apart. It felt weird, not sharing his space with Connor. Being alone in his mom’s house felt a lot more lonely than it did in high school. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. It was just a different kind of loneliness. In high school, Evan didn’t know what it was that he missed. 

Evan was pulled from his thoughts by a movement to his right. He tore his gaze away from the manicured lawn outside the window, and saw that the girl who sat next to him had raised her hand. Professor Jackson raised a skeptical eyebrow before pointing to the girl. “Yes?”

“I was just wondering why you phrased your question that way. ‘What did the author mean?’ is extremely reductive. Authorial intent is a flawed concept, both because we can never know what some guy who’s been dead for a century meant, and also because it doesn’t matter. All that matters it what we can understand and analyze with our modern views and opinions. Not to sound trite, Professor, but books belong to their readers, don’t they? Isn’t that the core of literary analysis?” 

 _Holy shit._ Evan was probably gaping at her, but he couldn’t help it. _911? I’d like to report a murder. That was amazing. She just eviscerated the professor. And she’s right, too. Oh my God, the professor is going to get her expelled or something. Why would she do that? How did she work up the nerve to do that? Holy fucking shit. Holy crap._

The professor’s eyes widened. Clearly, she wasn’t used to students questioning her, especially not on the first day of class. Evan winced, waiting for the inevitable scolding. He felt bad for the girl, although she did bring it on herself.

“While I don’t appreciate being wrong, I will admit it. You are correct.”

Evan choked on air. _How?_ _Who is this girl? Is this some kind of dream? There’s no way that she just got away with that. No way._  

But the class went on as normal for the remaining fifteen minutes. The girl sitting next to Evan turned to him as soon as class ended, with an amused grin on her face and said, “Not as much of a hardass as I was expecting." 

“H-h-how did you g-g-get away with that?”

She shrugged, “Just lucky I guess.”

“I c-c-c-could n-n-never do that.” He couldn’t even answer a question normally in class, let alone call out a professor like that.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” there was a mischievous glint in her eye. “What’s your name?” 

“E-E-Evan.” 

“You’re cute, Evan. I like your doodles.” She nodded to his notebook, before leaning over to write something on the open page. “Text me. We should get coffee sometime.” With that, she grabbed her bag and was out of the room before Evan could process what had happened. 

 _What the fuck just happened? Did she ask me out? She said I was cute, did she mean that like ‘You’re attractive’ or like ‘You remind me of a puppy’? Coffee? What does that mean? Is that a date? I’ve never been on a date before. Would I have to pay? Would we kiss? What would that be like? Do I like her? She’s pretty. But she kind of scares me. Maybe that’s good? Aren’t crushes supposed to make you nervous? I’m getting ahead of myself, she probably meant it all platonically. I mean, who in their right might would ask me out on a date? Oh my God. Oh my God. This is nuts. Maybe_ she’s _nuts._  

He glanced down at his open notebook. _I can’t believe she likes my doodles. They’re literally scribbles. Maybe she was flirting with me? Is that what flirting is? Oh my God._ She’d written her phone number, and what he assumed was her name.

_Caitlyn Walker._

Evan took a deep breath, closed the notebook, and shoved it in his bag.

_Holy shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you catch the Book of Mormon reference in here? ;)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so damn long...I really have no explanation apart from laziness. 
> 
> Anyways, here's more Caitlyn.

Evan was buzzing with anxiety. He stood outside the Starbucks just a block away from campus proper, waiting for Caitlyn. He still couldn’t believe he was on a real, actual date, with a real, actual human. A fresh wave of anxiety rolled through him.

_This was a mistake._

He shook the thought about of his head as soon as it came, instead focusing on the string of emojis that Caitlyn had added to her last text. She was excited to see him, for whatever reason, and that was what he had to focus on, not the overwhelming anxiety gnawing at his chest. _What was it Jared told me to do?_

 

_“Woah, woah, slow down,” Jared had said, when Evan had called him, frantic. “You have a date?”_

_“I think so…”_

_“With whomst?”_

_“H-h-her name is Caitlyn. S-s-she’s i-in one of my classes.”_

_“Okay, well first all, congrats, bro.” Evan could almost feel Jared’s smirk through the phone. “And, B, how the hell did this even happen?”_

_“S-s-she g-gave me her number after class. And I texted her, because it felt rude to, like, not, and I didn’t think anything would come of it, but I’m supposed to meet her at Starbucks in two hours, and I don’t know what to do.”_

_“Breathe,” Jared said calm, but firm. “In for 10, hold for 6, out for 10.”_

_“R-right.” Evan did as Jared said. Eventually he felt himself come down slightly from his anxiety. Just slightly. Enough to speak. “What if she sees me again and decides that she hates me? What if I do something stupid?”_

_“Okay, first of all, she pursued you. She is into you. You’ll be fine.” Jared’s voice was still firm and calm. It was a tone that Evan had never heard him use with anyone else. It was his patented Calm Evan Down voice._

_“I could still mess it up.”_

_“That’s your anxiety talking.” That same calm voice._

_“You’re right.”_

_“All you gotta do is listen to her talk, and, I don’t know, make a few jokes? I know you’re a sassy son of a bitch when you want to be.” Jared’s tone was light, but still firm and calm._

_“O-o-okay.”_

_“You good?”_

_“I think so. I should go. I gotta shower and stuff.”_

_“One last thing.”_

_“Yeah?”_  
  
_“Go get ‘em tiger.”_

 

Evan smiled. Jared was probably better than anyone at calming Evan down, just by virtue of being around Evan so much. He knew exactly how Evan’s anxiety functioned, and all the best ways to calm him down. Jared was a good friend when he wanted to be. Evan was still churning with anxiety, even more now that he was there, but he just kept reminding himself of what Jared had said. _Jared is right._

Caitlyn came in right on time. She was wearing dark blue jeans and a maroon shirt with a heavily stylized sun on it. She was wearing less makeup than before, and the fake nails were gone. Even in simpler clothes, she still managed to stand out. She was beautiful, really. Evan’s heart drummed in his chest, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of her, or because of his anxiety.

“Evan!” She called cheerfully, making her way through the crowd of sleep deprived college kids to his table.

“H-h-hey, Caitlyn,” he forced out, despite the way his throat closed up.

Caitlyn set her purse down on one of the chairs and grabbed her wallet out. “I’m gonna order. Have you ordered already?” She asked good naturedly. Evan froze. He forgot that going out for coffee involved ordering a drink. There was no way he could do that. Not with the amount of anxiety he was already feeling just being there. Not with the way the baristas always seemed like they were judging you for not being as cool or hipster as they were.

“I,” he cleared his throat, “I d-d-d-don’t w-want anything.”

Caitlyn cocked her head to the side slightly, but didn’t say anything. Instead she made her way up to the counter. She came back a few minutes later with a vanilla mocha. “So, Evan,” she started, “How’re you?”

Evan managed something about being, “Alright, I guess” and then asked her the same question. Luckily, Caitlyn was talkative. All Evan had to do was keep asking her questions and she would keep talking about herself. It wasn’t that she self-absorbed, it was just that she had an interesting life, and liked to talk. Evan was relieved.

In the hour and a half they spent at the coffee shop, he learned that she was working towards a double major in English Literature and Political Science, that she was a vegan (her mocha was made with soy milk), she was passionate about animal rights, she only bought organic and fair trade foods when she could help it (Evan laughed at this, he could never afford that), and her favorite color was green. 

Evan decided he liked Caitlyn somewhere in between a rant about the harsh working conditions on most coffee plantations (which struck Evan as rather hypocritical, as she sat across from him sipping a coffee), and a story about her nephew, who was experimenting with makeup.

“I’m a huge supporter of crushing gender roles,” she took a sip of her mocha. 

“Y-yeah, me too.” Evan stuttered out. He tended to like more typically boyish styles, but he thought of Connor’s nail polish, the rare days when he pulled it together to wear eye liner, and his general belief that “gender is a hoax invented by the government to keep us enslaved, Hansen.”

“But people can be shitty. I wish they’d been more supportive of that stuff when I was his age,” Caitlyn had a far away look on her face. 

“Yeah…” 

“I want to give my nephew the support that I never got as a kid.” Caitlyn looked like she was forcing her smile, now. “I know my parents weren’t the most supportive of _my_ choices at that age. They both nearly had heart attacks.”

Evan nodded, understandingly. “I’m pretty lucky. My mom is really supportive.”

“I’m glad for you.” It felt sincere, when it could've easily been bitter. 

“I’m sorry your parents aren’t supportive of, y’know…that you’re, uh. Well. You know.” Evan’s mouth felt dry, and he was exceedingly aware of how awkward he’d just been about Caitlyn’s gender. _You probably offended her, you dumbfuck._ Caitlyn must’ve sensed Evan’s awkwardness—she was probably used to it, he thought sadly—because she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, breathe. You’re fine,” she smiled reassuringly. “Trust me, I’ve heard worse.”

“T-thanks.”

“But in the future,” Caitlyn continued, removing her hand from his shoulder. “When something like that happens, just let it go. Calling attention to it makes it worse.”

Evan nodded, “O-okay.” That made sense, although he really couldn’t help the way his anxiety zeroed in on his mistakes in conversation. He’d just have to get better at hiding it. At least, from her. 

After the date, Caitlyn walked Evan home—“Like I said, crushing gender roles”—and when they got his door, she kissed him on the cheek before saying goodbye. He entered room 119 with his face flushed and his heart racing.

“You look happy,” Connor noted, looking up from his book. “Where’d you go?”

“I, uh…” Evan blushed even more than he thought possible. “I had a date.” 

Connor’s smile faded, and he picked his book back up, “Oh.” 

“I t-t-think it went well.” Evan continued, trying to keep his mood from plummeting at Connor’s lack of enthusiasm. _Is he okay? Why is he mad?_  

Connor looked up again, “That’s good.” His momentary upset seemed entirely gone, to the point where Evan wondered if he hadn’t imagined it. “Tell me about them.” 

“Them?”

“The person you went on a date with, stupid,” Connor said, rolling his eyes. There was no bite behind his insult, but instead affection. Evan liked that he knew Connor well enough that he could tell that from Connor’s tone.

“O-oh,” Evan beamed. “S-she’s great…” Evan talked about Caitlyn for almost an hour. He really liked her. She was smart and funny and her perfume smelled nice and she didn’t tease him about his anxiety and she was really pretty, too, but that felt like icing on the cake. Evan was rambling, but he hadn’t had a crush in a long time; it felt justified, somehow.

Connor just listened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME IMPORTANT HOUSEKEEPING: School is starting up again for me this week, so in order to keep my updates from getting too sporadic, I've written way ahead. I'm going to post a chapter a week, probably on Thursdays or Fridays. That way, instead of waiting three weeks and then getting two chapters back to back, there will be some sense of balance and cohesion.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor has a bad day. Evan helps him. This chapter is kind of heavy, with a lot of mental illness talk and brief mentions of suicidal ideation. Just a heads up.

“Hey, Connor,” Evan said cheerfully, walking into the dorm and sitting down at his desk, “I was thinking I’d order Chinese today—you can do it online now—and I was wondering if you’d talk to the guy. You can have some, if you want. D-d-do you like kung-pao chicken? Not that you have to, you can get whatever you want, of course. That’s just what I usually get. Well, that and rice and pot stickers, but I felt like that was kind of obvious. Unless you don’t like rice and pot stickers. Which is also fine. I don’t want to assume what you like. Maybe you don’t even like Chinese, I didn’t even think of that. I’m so stupid…” Evan trailed off, realizing that Connor hadn’t responded to anything he’d said. Usually by that point Connor would’ve cut off Evan’s rambling and reassured him.

“C-Connor?” He turned around to look at Connor’s side of the room. He was in his bed with the covers pulled over his head. “Oh.” He’d seen this before, back when Connor never went to his classes. Connor was probably awake, but Evan doubted he’d moved much all day—it was nearly four in the afternoon. Evan had his days like that, but recently things had been better. Hanging out with Caitlyn was slowly getting less stressful, and the bonsai gave him a reason to get up in the morning and function. He’d thought Connor was doing better, too.

Apparently not. Sure, Connor had been quieter recently. And maybe he missed a few more classes, and had switched sketching for just listening to music, but he’d also been talking to his therapist every week, and making an effort to keep reaching out to Zoe, it seemed like it balanced out.

 _I should’ve seen this coming._  

Evan sighed and inched toward Connor’s bed. 

“Connor?” He asked again, softer this time. He stopped short of the bed and knelt down, so he was eye level with a mass of Connor’s long, unwashed hair. “Hey…”

Connor didn’t react.

Evan placed a tentative hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Connor, please…Talk to me.”

Connor finally moved. He rolled over. Unruly hair was replaced with glassy eyes and purple bags to match. “What.” Connor said flatly.

“I…I’m worried about you.”

“Leave me alone, Hansen.” Connor snapped, moving to face the wall.

“N-n-no!”

“What?!” Connor twisted around to look at Evan.

“N-no.” Evan said again, trying to sound sure of himself. “I-I’m not going to leave you alone right now.”

“What the fuck?” Connor sneered. Evan ignored it. 

“I know, okay? I know how it f-f-feels. W-when it gets like this,” he gestured to Connor’s wrinkled clothes, “a-a-and you can’t p-p-pull yourself out of it. I g-get how l-l-lonely it is, how alone you feel.”

Connor didn’t say anything to confirm or deny this assumption, and kept his back turned to Evan. Evan hoped he was listening.

“I-I-I…I don’t w-want you t-t-t-to _actually_ be alone,” Evan twisted his shirt in his fingers. “Cause…Cause you’re not alone anymore, Connor.”

Connor sighed and finally turned to face Evan. “Okay.”

“Can you sit up?” 

Connor nodded, and sat up, sending his hair cascading in front of his face. Impulsively, Evan reached out and pushed it behind Connor’s ear. Connor tensed.

“S-S-Sorry, I-I—” _Why did I do that?_

“No, it’s okay.”

“So, um…” Evan swallowed, still embarrassed and doing a terrible job of hiding it, “What do you usually do to feel better? Like, what are your coping mechanisms?”

“What I was doing before.” Connor rolled his shoulders back and slumped against the wall, his eyes cast downward.

“O-okay,” Evan bit his lip. “I…Sometimes I like to read?” Evan wasn’t sure why it came out as a question, but Connor seemed to soften at the suggestion.

“My mom used to read to me, when I was little, and I couldn’t sleep,” Connor looked wistful, like he was somewhere far away. “She had a nice voice.” 

“Sounds nice.” Evan let his hand fall on Connor’s arm. For once, Connor didn’t tense at his touch, and instead he leaned into it.

“I miss it,” Connor sighed. “I miss her.” Evan felt like he was privy to a part of Connor that no one else got to see. It was different from the loud, rude, cold boy that Evan saw back in the fall, and it was different from the boy Evan knew now, who was trying, but still…still bitter, still guarded. This Connor was too tired to put up his walls. This Connor was vulnerable and sad and lonely, and Evan realized, this Connor was there, inside, the whole time.

“Well,” Evan shrugged, “I’m not your mom, but I do know how to read. I-If y-y-you want…Maybe that’s a stupid idea.”

Finally, Connor looked up at him, half a smile threatening to pull up the corners of his mouth. “It’s not stupid.” 

So Evan darted across the room to his bookshelf and grabbed the easiest book to reach (“Is Winnie The Pooh okay?” “Seriously, Hansen?” “That’s not an answer” “It’s fine”), and was back in front of Connor is a flash. He scooted onto the bed next to Connor. Evan must’ve read for over an hour, and it was nice.

Connor seemed calm, and Evan felt less anxious than he had in weeks. At some point, Connor leaned his head on Evan’s shoulder, which should’ve made Evan anxious, but it didn’t. And Connor seemed to enjoy Evan’s reading, although it was sprinkled with stutters and a few mispronounced words. Or at least, Evan thought Connor enjoyed it. He didn’t ask Evan to stop at all. He let Evan’s stomach, which still wanted kung-pao chicken, do the job for him. 

“Have you eaten?” Evan asked, setting the book down. Connor didn’t answer, so Evan assumed that the answer was probably a resounding no. “Did you hear what I said about, about the, uh, Chinese food?”

“Spicy pork.”

“What?”

“I like spicy pork.” Connor paused. “And vegetable fried rice.”

So, Evan ordered the food. The website said the food would take 40 minutes, and at first they waited in a sort of anticipatory silence, until Evan couldn’t take how loud the silence was anymore, and broke it. 

“…Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s not really….” Connor frowned. “It’s not really anything. It’s just my head. It gets so loud. Like constant fucking yelling in my head. About everything. How I'm useless, how everyone hates me, how I should just...I should just die," Connor took a shaky breath, pulling back his emotions slightly, "And I think my meds are making it worse, somehow.”

“C-Could be the wrong meds. The first anxiety meds I took made me really depressed. My anxiety was better, but I had no motivation to do _anything.”_  

“That sucks.”

“But I talked to Dr. Sherman about it, and he switched my prescription to something else, which I’m still on now.”

Connor nodded.

“You should—” 

“Talk to Dr. Marshall, I know.” 

They fell into expectant silence again, and Evan wondered for a brief, panicked moment, if he’d overstepped. But then Connor spoke again. “I…I don’t…What if no meds help? What if I’m just fucking broken? What then?” Connor seemed so raw, so exposed, and Evan wanted nothing more than to just…fix it, somehow. 

“Connor,” he said, as firmly as he could, and placing his hands on Connor’s shoulders. “Look at me. I know this hard. And I know that meds can’t fix everything, and that’s terrifying, and it feels so hopeless. But it’s not. Meds do help, if you find the right ones, and taking them doesn’t make you, like, weaker or anything.”

Connor nodded slowly. 

“You-You’re not broken. And God, I know that’s hard to believe, but you’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You’re still here, Connor. You’re surviving. A-a-and you don’t let people push you around. No one tells Connor Murphy what to do or who to be. Do you know how much I wish I could be like that? And okay, maybe I thought you were a little scary at first. But you’re not.”

Evan took a deep breath. 

“You’re a good person, Connor. Y-Y-You deserve _so_ much.” Before Connor could protest, Evan put his arms around him and pulled him into a hug. Connor was stiff at first, but then relaxed into the embrace. Evan just held him tighter.

They stayed that way for a long time—until the delivery guy called to say he was downstairs—with Evan’s arms around Connor’s waist, Connor’s hands at Evan hips, and Connor’s head bowed to rest on Evan’s shoulder. 

Evan felt slightly sad when Connor pulled away to answer the phone, but he didn’t dwell on the feeling. Instead, he focused on the food Connor brought back. Connor looked up halfway through his fried rice. “Thank you, Hansen.”

“For the food?”

“For everything.”

“Oh…” Evan nodded. “You’re welcome.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Hey, Caitlyn and invited me out with a bunch of her friends next weekend. You should come.” 

“Out where?”

“A karaoke bar?” Evan frowned. “Club? I don’t know. But it’s not my scene.”

“Ah. You just want me there for moral support.” 

“Maybe. But you might have fun, you never know.”

“Fine. I’ll go.”

“Awesome!” 

“But I’m not singing.” 

“Deal.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Zoe talk some things out. Let the Murphy siblings heal 2k17.

Connor was staring at his sketchbook. He hadn’t picked it up in a week and a half. He wanted to, he really did, but he just hadn’t had the energy. Or the motivation. Or the inspiration. He could blame it on “artist's block” but that felt like a cop out.

The truth was, the start of the semester had slapped him in the fucking face with a depressive episode. Hansen, to his credit, had tried to help, but as nice as it was, you can’t cure depression with Winnie The Pooh and a beautiful smile. The sappy part of Connor’s mind—the part that still got misty eyed when Mufasa died in The Lion King, the part that admitted to Evan that he missed his mom—that part of him wanted to draw something for Evan, just a thank you. _Maybe I could draw Piglet and Eeyore._ He chuckled to himself at the thought.

His phone interrupted his thoughts before they got too soft and sappy. He doesn’t bother checking the caller ID before answering. There were only two real possibilities and neither of them were good.

“What do you want?” He snapped into the phone.

“Okay, wow. This was a mistake.” Zoe’s uncertain tone came through.

“Zoe!” Connor blanched. “Wait, don’t hang up. I didn’t look at the caller ID; I thought you were mom or dad calling to bitch at me.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve never called me before, so, you know.” Connor rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Zoe calling was either a fucking miracle, or someone was dead.

“That’s fair.” Zoe seemed to calm, although she was definitely still on guard.

“So, uh…Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, no, everything’s fine.” Zoe’s voice was hesitant and stilted. So this _was_ a miracle. _Someone call the Vatican, God is real_. “I’ve been talking with the counselor at school. And he said that the only to fix things is to rebuild trust. Get to know each other again. So, yeah.” She was so unsure, so scared. Connor frowned. He hated that. She shouldn’t be afraid of reaching out to her own brother. 

“That makes sense.” 

There was an ugly pause. Neither of them knew what to say, how to move forward.

“Sooo…How have you been?” Zoe asked awkwardly.

“Honestly? Not great. Depression’s been a bitch recently,” Connor took a short breath, “You?”

“Still dying a slow and painful death in college app hell. But at least I have help.”

“Mom?”

“No, a friend.”

“Do I know them?”

“Probably. She was in your class.”

“You know the only person who talked to me was Alana.”

Zoe laughed, “True.”

“So, tell me about this friend.”

“She’s nice. Super smart, too. And, uh,” Zoe cleared her throat awkwardly. “I kind of have a crush on her.”

Silence. Connor felt all the breath escape his lungs. He had no idea Zoe liked girls. He couldn’t imagine what seeing how Larry treated Connor must’ve done to her, how much it must’ve hurt her. He knew it wasn’t his fault, but he felt guilt well up in his chest nonetheless. _Maybe if I’d been better, Larry would’ve been more accepting._  

“Zoe…I…you never…um.”

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure about it for awhile, but this girl is…Something else.” There was a dreaminess to Zoe’s voice that Connor hadn’t heard since she was 7 and obsessed with Shang from Mulan. She sounded happy.

“So…are you…”

“I don’t know. I might be bi? Or pan? Or I might just be a lesbian. I’m not sure, I’m still figuring it out. Mostly I just know I really like this girl.”

“Well, uh. Welcome to the Club, I guess.” Connor was unbelievably glad that Zoe had told him. It felt a little bit like he was gaining her trust.

“What about you, huh?” Her tone suggested that she’d be elbowing him in the ribs if they weren’t talking on the phone. “Still pining after your roommate?”

Connor groaned. “I’m absolutely pathetic, aren’t I?” 

“You’re not—” 

“He’s dating a girl now, and every time he mentions her my skin crawls.”

“Dude.”

“I know. And I can’t even actually hate her. She’s too nice!”

“Aren’t you like morally obligated to hate your crush’s significant other?”

Connor rolled his eyes, “Says you, maybe. But this girl is honestly incredible. She’s always so fucking cheerful. And she’s, like, dedicated to ending animal cruelty, but not in the Privileged White Vegan way that throws farmers and migrant workers under the bus. And Hansen says she bought him a book for no reason the other day. Who  _does_ that?" 

“Is Evan dating Mother Theresa? Be honest with me.” 

“She even has this cutesy nickname for him: ‘Ev.’ What, is two syllables too much for you? Can’t be bothered?” Connor knew he was being petty, but that was only because there was nothing else for him to be angry about. She was great. And she made Evan happy, and if Evan was happy, Connor could learn to be happy for him.

“You just wish you could be the one calling him ‘Ev’”

Connor hated that Zoe was right. “Yeah. He’s just…I don’t know.” Connor laughed at himself. He really was pathetic. 

“He’s cute? He’s got big hazel eyes and freckles and you just want to kiss him until your lips turn blue? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

Connor’s face flushed. “Zoe!”

Zoe snickered.

“It’s more than that, though. I trust him, you know? And I feel like, like he gets it? Or, he gets me?”

“Sure.”

“And he helps me, when it’s bad. And I help him, too,” Connor sighed. “I guess it’s just been a long time since I cared about someone and they cared about me back.”

“Connor, I…” There was regret in her voice.

“No, uh,” He furrowed his brow. “I didn’t mean you. That’s my fault.”

“You know that I love you, right?” Zoe asked abruptly. Connor didn’t know what to say to that. It was probably the last thing he expected Zoe to say. 

“After everything I put you through?” Connor didn’t—couldn’t—understand Zoe’s capacity for forgiveness.

“Connor, you’re my brother. The past few years have been hard. There have been times that I thought I hated you,” she took a deep, shaky breath. “But I never forgot the Connor who used to take me trick-or-treating, who let me watch Hannah Montana for hours, who braided my hair on special occasions. I miss that.”

“God, me too. I’m so sorry.”

“I know. And I know you’re trying to be better. I don’t know if we can ever get back to that point, but all I’ve wanted for so long is to have my brother back.”

“Zoe…”

“Let me finish. If I want to have a relationship you, I have to let you back in. So, Connor…” She took a moment to steady herself. “I forgive you.”

“You forgive me?” Connor couldn’t even forgive himself. 

“I can’t be mad forever.”

“I mean, you could. I would.”

“I’m not like that, and you know it.”

“Yeah, I do.”

There was a pause. Connor couldn’t process what had happened. 

Finally: “Thank you, Zoe.” 

“I know, I know, I’m too good.”

“Well. Yeah.”

“Just…Promise me one thing?”

“Anything.” 

“Don’t give up on yourself. If I, of all people, can give you a second chance, that means something. Don’t throw it away.”

Connor exhaled slowly. He had no idea how to keep that promise. “Okay.” He said anyways.

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear?” Connor rolled his eyes. “This is a phone conversation, Zoe.” 

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Zoe retorted. 

“Really, Zoe?”

“Connor Murphy, you pinky swear me right this second, or I take back everything nice I just said.” He could tell she wanted to sound serious, but she couldn’t hide the smile from her voice.

“Okay, okay. Pinky swear.”

“Now tell me more about Evan.”

“Zoe…C’mon.”

“Do you want a long distance wing woman or not?”

“Alright, fine.” Connor acquiesced. “I’m going out to karaoke tomorrow night with Evan, Caitlyn, and a bunch of Caitlyn’s friends.”

“That sounds like hell.” 

“Well, you know…Evan asked, so..” Connor ran a hand through his hair, but his fingers caught on the knots and tangles.

“You are _so_ whipped.” 

“Shut up, Zoe!” Connor moaned. “Just help me plan how to survive tomorrow night.” 

“Alright, alright.” As Zoe launched into her ideas for karaoke survival, a warm feeling surged up from Connor’s gut into his chest, and out to his fingertips and toes. 

It took him a few minutes to realize the feeling was hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd upload on Thursdays or Fridays, but it's turning out that Saturdays work better. 
> 
> Also, I'm sorry I haven't been responding to comments as much anymore. I appreciate each and every one--except the mean ones--but school started and I don't have as much time, and I'm starting to get a lot of anxiety from the comments because I've gotten a couple unsavory ones.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's karaoke night, y'all

The music was too loud. The lights were too bright. There were too many people having too many conversations, too quickly. Evan couldn’t breathe, and the room seemed to spin around him. He was drowning in a sea of neon and sweat. “I hate this,” he mumbled to Connor. He really shouldn’t have come. He knew he’d hate it. But Caitlyn had smiled so wide. And she’d really seemed to want him there. At least it was a group thing and he could bring Connor, so he felt a little less like he didn’t, or couldn’t belong there.

“Only, like, an hour to go.” Connor gave Evan’s arm a reassuring squeeze, letting his hand linger for few moments.

“I know,” Evan smiled weakly, “Thanks.” And then Caitlyn came back and Connor’s hand vanished, along with it’s warmth and comfort, from Evan’s arm.

“Having fun?” She asked with a grin, setting down the three drinks she’d gone to get for them. Something pink and fruity (and non-alcoholic) for her and two matching soda waters for Connor and Evan.

Evan took a long chug of his before answering: “Y-Yeah.”

“Good!” She laughed, putting a hand on his shoulder. Evan tensed, unsure of what was coming. “You ready to sing?”

“R-Ready to—w-w-what?” Evan blanched.

“Sing? You know, karaoke?” Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “Because this is a karaoke bar?” She chuckled, but Evan felt like the world was collapsing around him. 

“N—No, no, I can’t, n-n-n-no.” He managed, feeling is throat closing up. 

“I signed you up, Evan,” Caitlyn hesitated, clearly realizing her mistake, “I thought, since you said you would come, that meant you were okay with singing.” 

Evan wheezed. He wanted to respond that the only singing he did was in the shower, but he couldn’t take in enough oxygen to form words. He only managed a few stunted coughs. He chest felt heavy and somehow the club seemed to spin even faster than it already was.

Caitlyn moved her hand from his shoulder and took a step back. She probably thought he was a total freak at this point. “I’m so sorry, I just thought it would be fun,” she said earnestly.  

“I k-k-know. B-b-but, I r-r-really can’t.” Evan leaned over and put his hands on his knees, trying to steady himself. _In for 10, hold for 6, out for 10._ Evan felt a hand on his back. Connor was there, somehow, rubbing circles on the small of Evan’s back.

“Someone has to go up there when they call his name,” Caitlyn said, her voice betraying the smallest of anxieties. She sounded far away, everything did; it was like Evan’s head was in a fishbowl.

“I’ll do it,” he heard Connor say tersely, through clenched teeth. Connor was blaming Caitlyn for this, even though it wasn’t Caitlyn’s fault that Evan’s brain sucked and wouldn’t let him do fun college things like karaoke. But even so…

“T-t-t-thank y-y-you, Connor.” Evan felt some of his panic subside. Thank God for Connor. It was a few minutes until Evan’s name was called, and Caitlyn spent the time apologizing, while Connor just kept rubbing circles, at least until Evan’s breathing evened out a little. Evan nodded along to Caitlyn’s apologies, but he couldn’t really focus on the words. He just knew she felt bad. He didn’t hold it against her. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know. Connor, on the other hand, was radiating with the anger he was trying to contain. 

To be fair, he hadn’t really seemed to like Caitlyn all that much, anyway, for reasons Evan would probably never understand.

 ** _“Evan Hansen!”_** His name was called to a lot of drunken shouts. Connor sauntered up to the stage with an uncharacteristic amount of bravado and false arrogance. Evan knew immediately that Connor was putting on a show.

“Right here,” he said with a wink.

“Whatcha gonna sing for us, Evan?”

“I’m going to sing,” Connor grinned, his eyes scanning the crowd for Evan, and not stopping until they made eye contact, “My Humps.”

Evan’s jaw dropped, and Connor smirked. Evan could only image the look of shock on his own face. He would never have pegged Connor Murphy as a Fergie fan. Evan’s eyes were glued to Connor as the first beats of the song came through the speakers.

Connor didn’t sing Will.I.Am’s part, but he started to move to the beat, rolling his hips and shaking his chest.

 

_I’m gonna get-get-get-get you drunk_

_Get you love drunk off my hump_

_My hump, my hump_

_My hump, my hump, my hump_

_My hump, my hump, my hump_

_My lovely lady lumps, check it out!_

 

It turned out, as the song progressed, that Connor could dance. He was all hip thrusts and stripper squats, and Evan couldn’t tear his eyes away. Connor looked comfortable on stage, like he belonged there.

 

_I’m gonna make-make-make-make you scream_

_Make you scream, make you scream_

 

Connor shook his ass towards the patrons of the bar. Evan felt a blush creep up from his neck to his cheeks. He’d never really thought about how tight Connor’s jeans were before that moment. _Christ._

 

_They say I’m really sexy_

_The boys they want to sex me_

_They always standing next to me_

_Always dancing next to me_

 

Connor met Evan’s eyes on those lyrics, and gyrated his hips again, in a ridiculously over the top motion. Evan snorted out a half hearted laugh. His anxiety was all but gone, replaced instead by a mountain of affection for Connor.

 

  _I’m gonna make-make-make-make you work_

_Make you work, work, make you work_

_Oh, spending all your money on me, and spending time on me_

_Oh, spending all your money on me, on me, on me_

_So real, so real, so real, so real, so real_

 

The song ended, and Connor’s hips finally stopped moving. Evan watched him depart the stage with a grin. Evan felt lighter than he had all night. Now that Evan thought about it, that was probably Connor’s plan with the over the top provocative dancing and singing—to make Evan laugh.

“Well,” Caitlyn grinned as Connor sat back down. “I told you that would be fun.”

“Y-Yeah,” Evan nodded.

She planted a soft kiss on Evan’s cheek, “Thanks for coming.”

Evan blushed. “Thanks—Thanks for inviting me.”

“Of course,” Caitlyn nodded.

The rest of the night blurred together—it was just another half an hour or so—until Connor and Evan were walking back to their dorm in the frigid night air of mid-February. Evan shivered and pulled his jacket closer to his body.

“T-Thanks… For earlier,” Evan looked up at Connor, “A-And for coming.”

“Hey,” Connor shrugged, “I’ve got your back, Hansen.”

“I mean it,” Evan stopped walking, trying to emphasize the point, “You really saved me tonight, Connor.”

“I guess I did.” The corners of Connor’s mouth turned up in a smile.

“My knight in shining, uh,” Evan eyed Connor up and down, “Skinny jeans?”

“Oh, shut up, Hansen,” Connor shook his head and kept walking.

“Seriously, though,” Evan continued, trailing just slightly behind Connor, “I can’t believe you did that. And after you said you wouldn’t sing.”

“A ‘thank you’ would be enough, Hansen.” Connor seemed to tense, for some reason, but Evan wasn’t about to pry. It was just going to be a conversation for another day.

“I just…” Evan shrugged. “You were good up there. I’d almost believe you were a real dancer or something.”

Connor smirked, “Thanks, but I don’t dance.”

“You danced tonight,” Evan pointed out.

Connor rolled his eyes, “The exception that proves the rule.”

Evan wasn’t sure when talking like this with Connor got so easy, but he didn’t question it. It wasn’t like wonderful friends just fell out of the sky, and especially not for Evan Hansen. Looking up at Connor, whose head was framed by the streetlight like a halo, Evan was overwhelmed with how lucky he was. _This,_ he thought, _this is what I’ll remember when I’m old and grey and my grandkids ask me about college. The night Connor Murphy sang ‘My Humps’ at karaoke._ Evan smiled. For the first time in a long time, it felt like things were going to be okay.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left a supportive comment on the author’s note. I’m sorry I didn’t reply, but I always planned on deleting the note, and it seemed sort of silly to reply to each comment, and then delete the whole thing. But, I promise, I read and appreciated all of your kind words. I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

It was a Monday. Evan had two classes, and a date with Caitlyn in the evening. Just a study date, but still. It was an obligation. Evan’s body felt like it was full of wet cement, and it only got worse as the morning dragged on. His morning class, American Lit, started and ended. Connor got up and stumbled out the door to his late morning art class. Evan watched his phone light up repeatedly with texts from Caitlyn, wondering where he was, why he wasn’t in class, and if he was okay. 

Evan couldn’t bring himself to reply until an hour after she sent the last text, and only because he imagined her worried, and he didn’t like the idea that she might show up at his door unannounced. “Sorry,” he tapped out slowly, “I’m sick,” and then he added, “Head cold,” so she wouldn’t imagine him throwing up or something. A part of him, in the back of his mind, was relieved he didn't have to see her. He knew she was going to ask to be official soon, and honestly...He wasn't sure what he would say to that. 

He shook the thoughts from his head and scrolled through his notifications. He had a few texts from Jared.

 

**New Text From Jared:** how u doing?

**New Text From Jared:** i know it’s a bad day

**New Text From Jared:** it’s ok if u can’t respond

**New Text From Jared:** but i hope ur ok

 

**To Jared:** tbh not good

**To Jared:** missed class

**New Text From Jared:** sorry, bud

**New Text From Jared:** wanna talk?

 

Evan was glad Jared offered; it was good to be reminded that he cared. But Evan didn’t want to talk. It wasn’t like it was anything new. It was February 22nd. The day Evan’s father left. The day their perfect little family fell apart. The day Evan realized he wasn’t enough. He almost always missed school on the 22nd, unless it fell on the weekend. Then he could stay in bed all day with no consequence. Most years Jared came over and they talked or played video games or watched movies.

 

**To Jared:** nah

**To Jared:** nothing you haven’t heard before

**To Jared:** thanks though

**New Text From Jared:** np

 

Evan put his phone down and pulled his comforter over his head. _I should just die. Death would be great right now._ He let his eyes slip shut. He could settle for sleep.

He wasn’t sure how long he slept, but the light had changed from morning to afternoon when he woke to the sound of Connor slamming the door. Evan pushed the blankets off his head and torso and sat up. 

“Shit, sorry,” Connor mumbled.

“S’okay. I’ve slept enough.”

“Fair,” Connor gave Evan a small smile. “It is almost three.”

“Yeah.” Evan looked down at his bed. Connor sounded concerned. Evan hated that. It was the same tone the teachers always used. _Evan is a good kid. It’s not like him to miss a day so suddenly. Is he okay?_

“You never miss classes.” _And here it comes_. “Should I be worried?”

“Oh…” Evan hesitated. “It’s…It’s nothing.”

Connor wasn’t buying it. “Hansen, c’mon. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“It’s just…” Evan sighed. He felt stupid being so upset. “February 22nd. It’s…It’s the day my dad left.”

“Oh.” Connor took a short step back. He probably thought Evan wouldn’t notice, but he did. Connor was uncomfortable. He didn’t know how to react.

“It’s…It’s never a good day for me. All that ‘why wasn’t I enough for him’ and ‘everyone will eventually leave me’ stuff pops up to the front on my brain.”

“I’m sorry.” Connor rocked back on his heels. 

“It was getting better, though. In middle school Jared started coming over to watch movies or play video games with me. As a distraction. It helped.” 

“Well,” Connor’s eyes glinted, “I doubt I’m as distracting as Jared, but we can still watch movies.”

“You don’t have to...” Evan tried. But then Connor was grabbing his laptop and squishing onto Evan’s bed.

“So, I have _Jurassic Park, Captain America: The First Avenger,_ _Raiders of the Lost Arc,_ and _Jaws_ , among others,” Connor said, pulling up what appeared to be a desktop folder full of illegally pirated movies and TV shows. “Pick your poison.”

“Got anything, uh, feel good?”

“Please,” Connor scoffed, “I’m too hard and tough for anything sappy.”

Evan raised an eyebrow, “Oh, really? Then why is there a file labeled _The Proposal_?” He pointed to the movie in questions.

Connor’s cheeks turned a vicious shade of pink. Evan had never seen Connor blush like that. “Uh, Zoe must’ve downloaded that…”

“Right,” Evan chuckled.

“Alright,” Connor threw his hands up, “I like chick flicks. Sue me.”

“Don’t worry,” Evan smiled, feeling some of the weight of the day lifting, “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Connor harrumphed in response.

“So, what else ya got?”

“ _27 Dresses, The Holiday, The Wedding Planner, When Harry Met Sally, How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days, Failure to Launch_ —stop me when you hear something you like.”

“Three out of five of the movies you just listed are Matthew McConaughey movies.”

“Don’t fucking judge me, Hansen.” Connor rolled his eyes. “Just pick a movie.”

“Not judging,” Evan put his hands up. “Just making sure the record shows that you have a thing for Matthew McConaughey.” 

“Shut up and pick a movie,” Connor groaned.

“Okay, okay,” Evan scanned the screen, “Let’s go with _When Harry Met Sally._ ”

“A classic,” Connor nodded in approval. 

“I have a soft spot for best friends falling in love.” 

So, they watched _When Harry Met Sally_ , and then they watched _The Proposal_ , and then because of Connor’s thing for Matthew McConaughey, they watched _The Wedding Planner._ Connor let Evan rest his head on his shoulder, and halfway through _The Wedding Planner_ , Evan fell asleep. He woke up just in time to catch the end credits of the movie.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.” Connor was snarky, but it only made Evan smile. If he had been more awake, he might’ve realized Connor was calling him beautiful, but instead he just yawned and stretched. 

“Thanks, Connor,” he said, settling back into the bed. “This was nice.”

“Anytime,” Connor flashed his typical half smile, closed his laptop, and slid off the bed. “Oh, and Hansen?”

“Yeah?” 

“Your dad’s a fucking idiot for leaving you and your mom. And an even bigger fucking idiot for never calling you. Or sending a damn birthday card. Or something.” 

“Connor…”

“Only a total shithead wouldn’t be able to see how great you are,” Connor’s voice was low and genuine. “I mean it. You’re so kind and passionate and you deserve so much more than what he gave you.”

Evan’s heart pounded, and he felt the blood rush to his head. He wasn’t used to such sincere compliments. He tried in vain to fight the blush that crept up his neck to his cheeks.

Connor plowed on. “It takes someone tremendously dense to leave someone as wonderful as you. Okay?”

“I think the romantic comedies got to your head, dude.” Evan said, voice cracking slightly. He was trying to seem calm and collected, hiding the emotions that were surging through him, but his stupid voice had to crack and betrayed him. _Great._

“Hansen, I swear to God,” Connor shook his head.

“Okay,” Evan conceded defeat. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want you to appreciate how many times I spelled "McConaughey" in this chapter


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caitlyn asks Evan to make it official.

It was the first week of March and the sun was shining. Evan could almost _feel_ Spring approaching, despite the mounds of dirty snow that lined the sidewalk. That day was a good day, because he was meeting up with Caitlyn for lunch. Another date, Evan assumed, although it really didn’t feel like they’d been dating for the last month. It felt more like they were really touchy friends. Not that they’d done anything beyond a kiss on the cheek here, or a held hand there, but that was more than Evan did with most people.

Evan didn’t mind that their relationship moved slow. In fact, the idea of the moment when she was finally ask him to define their relationship filled him with anxiety. She was nice, and she made him laugh, and she was, objectively, attractive, but he’d realized, at some point, that he didn’t like her like _that_. Telling her seemed terrifying, though. He really didn’t want to hurt her, or worse, permanently lose her friendship.

He felt like he led her on, but in fairness to himself, he really did think he liked her at first. But then they became friends, and all his feelings for her vanished almost overnight. Because there were never any real feelings to begin with. He just wanted to be her friend.

...God, he was going to come off like _such_ an asshole. 

Truthfully, the only real crush he’d ever had was on Jared’s older sister, Natalie. She was in high school when Evan and Jared were in middle school, and she was amazing. She was super smart, and funny, and always really nice to Evan, even though Jared was a total brat, and she wore strawberries and cream scented lotion. All three of them were friends growing up, and the crush developed out that when Evan was in seventh or eighth grade. The crush faded pretty quickly when Evan hit high school, and Natalie went off to college, but Jared’s mom was probably still planning their (traditional, Jewish) wedding and compiling lists of (Hebrew) baby names for them. 

Other than Natalie—which was probably more of an infatuation—every other crush Evan had ended up like Caitlyn. He just wanted to be their friend. He almost thought he was just gay, until it happened with a boy, too. Maybe Evan would never be able to fall in love with anyone. Evan’s stomach churned at the thought of a lifetime of lonliness, and he refocused on Caitlyn. She was going to ask to make things official soon, and he was going to have to reject her. He shuddered.

For now, he could just smile and nod when she tried to flirt, and stamp down the panic as best he could. 

He was early for lunch. Evan was early for everything, as a product of his anxiety. To his surprise, he saw Caitlyn was already waiting for him. And she looked…uncertain? Worried? Evan didn’t know. He’d never seen anything but confidence on her face. Anxiety gnawed on Evan’s stomach.

“Hey, Ev,” she bit her lip, “We need to talk.”

Evan froze. _Oh no. Oh no. Here it comes. She doesn’t want to hang out with me anymore. She hates me._ “O-Okay…” 

“Where is this relationship going?”

“I—”  _Oh._  

“No, let me finish. We’ve gone on a lot of dates. And I really like you, I think I made that obvious. I thought you liked me, too.”

“Caitlyn—” Evan tried, even though his throat was starting to close up. Panic rose in his chest and he fought for breath.

“I understand wanting to wait until after Valentine’s Day to make it official, but it’s been two weeks,” she took his hand, “What do you say?”

“NO!” He yelled in her face, finally finding his voice, yanking his hand away.

“Excuse me?”

_Fuck, she’s mad. Why the fuck did you do that?_ “N-n-no! I didn’t mean it like that. You’re awesome. Really awesome. I just think of you more of a friend, and like, I know that it probably seems like I led you on, but this is just kind of a problem for me? And I want you to know that it’s not you, and I’m really, really sorry, and—”

“Evan, breathe,” she smiled softly. “It’s okay.”

“Wh—Really?”

“I mean, it sucks. And I’m hurt. And I’m going to need some space for awhile. But you’re a good person. I still want to be your friend.” 

“Seriously?”

“There are plenty of fish in the sea, especially for someone as fine as me,” she laughed, “and, besides, I like hanging out with you.”

Evan managed a weak smile. He’d never felt so relieved. “Thank you.”

“So…” Caitlyn was still smiling. “Lunch?”

“Lunch.” Evan confirmed. They walked into the café arm in arm.

Lunch itself went by quickly, and then Evan was back in his dorm. Connor was sketching when Evan walked in, and Evan felt a pang of grief that he _still_ hadn’t seen any of Connor’s drawings yet. _Why are they such a secret?_

“How was lunch?” Connor asked, though he couldn’t have seemed less interested.

“She asked me to be her boyfriend.”

Connor stopped sketching. “So, you’re official now?” Connor, somehow, didn’t seem happy about that. Maybe he was just in a mood. 

“Uh, n-no. I said no.” 

“Oh.” 

“So, we’re just friends.”

Connor didn’t say anything. He went back to sketching.

“How are you?”

“Good. Great. Wonderful.” Connor bit out.

“Connor.” Clearly, Connor was not great.

“Okay, I’m bored,” Connor admitted. “And more irritable than usual.”

“Sounds s-s-sucky.”

“It is. My meds are still wonky. I talked to Doctor Marshall about it, and I’m getting a new prescription, but it’s not ‘safe’ for me to stop taking these, so I have slowly wean myself off of them, or whatever. It’s gonna be a couple more weeks of this bullshit.”

“I mean, better safe than sorry,” Evan shrugged, “Still sucks though.”

Connor nodded.

“At least you’re sketching again, though, right?” Evan tried. Connor shrugged.

“It might help if you socialized with someone other than me,” Evan said carefully. 

Connor snorted, “Like who?”

“Uh, Caitlyn?” Evan offered. “We’re supposed to study together on Wednesday. It’s not a date anymore, so, come with me. It’ll be fun.”

Connor made a face that Evan couldn’t read. “You’re asking me to _study_ with you?”

“Yeah…”

“Hansen, have you met me?” 

“Hey, now,” Evan crossed his arms, “I saw you last December! Don’t try to tell me that you don’t study because that’s a blatant lie.”

“Fine,” Connor conceded. “Maybe I do study. But I don’t like it.” 

“You don’t have to like it,” Evan let his arms fall, “But maybe you’ll like hanging out with Caitlyn outside of a karaoke bar.”

“If I say ‘yes’ will you leave me alone for the rest of the night?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “ _Connor_.”

“Hansen.” Connor threw back, smirking. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Alright. I’ll go.”

Evan grinned. “I promise, you’ll have fun.”

“Fat chance.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor, Evan, and Caitlyn study together. 
> 
> WARNING: Connor yells a lot towards the end of the chapter. Also there's a POV shift halfway through.

Evan hummed as he collected his text books and highlighters and flash cards and notebooks, and finally his laptop. He was surprisingly calm for a kid going into midterms. The semester’s classes were a hell of a lot easier than the fall semester’s had been. Probably because _this_ semester he didn’t have calculus taking up all his time and ruining his life. 

And he didn’t have to study alone this semester. He had Caitlyn, and now he could drag Connor along as well. He still couldn’t believe he’d gotten Connor to agree to study with Caitlyn, but he wasn’t going to question it. Connor seemed less cold towards Caitlyn, and more attentive when Evan brought her up. Evan wasn’t sure when or why exactly the change had occurred. Connor was sort of like a cat—it was impossible to tell who he would like or why. 

“Do you really need _all_ your books?” Connor asked, interrupting Evan’s thoughts. “Realistically, you’re only gonna study for one class. Why lug all your shit to the library and back?”

Evan considered this for a moment. “Fair point.” He decided on his history class, because it was his favorite—History of Naturalism—which somehow counted for his general education requirement. “How’re you feeling about midterms?” He asked, as he took his other books out of his bag.

“Eh,” Connor shrugged. “Intro to Psych is the only one I really have to worry about.”

“Why are you even taking that class?” Evan laughed. “You’re an art major.”

Connor shrugged. “Open space in my schedule, it fulfills my Human Behavior requirement, and it was either that or History of Dance.” Connor paused, before adding, “I may have taken tap as a kid, but that doesn’t mean I give a fuck who invented it, you know?”

Evan stopped pulling things out of his bag and turned to look at Connor. “You took _tap_ as a kid?!” _I thought he said he didn’t dance…_

“Yeah, and ballet, too,” Connor said flatly. “Jeez. Don’t get so excited.”

“How long did you take it?”

“Eight god damned years.”

“Tell me there is video somewhere of a tiny Connor Murphy dancing his little heart out. Preferably with sequins.”

“I’ve destroyed it all,” Connor said too quickly.

“Somehow I don’t believe you.”

“Just leave it alone, Hansen,” Connor snapped, fists balled. Evan got a feeling he’d hit a nerve, so he backed off. Connor’s hands relaxed.

“You alright?” Evan asked, “I-I’m s-s-sorry if I upset you.” 

“Yeah,” Connor sighed, “Yeah, sorry. I’m just tired.”

Evan nodded. “Shall we go?”

Connor grabbed his messenger bag and followed Evan out the door, and across campus to the library, and the study room in which they were supposed to meet Caitlyn. She was already there, and they settled in pretty quickly.

At first, studying went fine. Connor still seemed _off_ , but he forced a laugh at Caitlyn’s jokes, so that was a good sign. He was at least trying to be polite. But Evan could see how unfocused he was, how he clenched his jaw each time Caitlyn clicked her pen, or Evan shuffled his papers. Evan couldn’t help the guilt welling up in his chest. He should never have made a big deal about the tap dancing. That was stupid. Still. He couldn’t fathom what was so bad about it.

Connor made it an hour into the study session when he slammed his psych textbook shut, and looked up.

“Everything okay?” Caitlyn asked cheerfully.

“Stop. Fucking. Clicking. Your. God. Damned. Pen.” Connor growled. He looked positively murderous. _Over a pen?_

“Sorry,” Caitlyn mumbled, putting the pen down. 

“Connor…What’s wrong?” Evan asked slowly. 

“Oh,” Connor scoffed, “Fuck off with that shit.”

“W-what?” 

“I don’t need your fucking pity!” Connor’s voice was rough and jagged. “I’m sick of people pretending to fucking care.” He shoved his textbook in his bag and stood.

“I’m-I-I’m-I do care, Connor,” Evan pleaded, “I’m your friend.” 

“Save it,” Connor snapped, walking towards the door. He stopped and called over his shoulder, “And don’t come after me. Leave me the fuck alone, Hansen.” And then Connor was gone.

Evan was frozen in place for…actually, he wasn’t entirely sure, it could’ve been minutes or seconds, unable to process what had happened, and then it all snapped into focus, and he couldn’t move fast enough. He was shoving his books and notes messily back into his backpack and spitting out an lame apology to Caitlyn before sprinting after Connor. 

He was halfway back to the dorm when he realized he forgot his jacket.

 

* * *

 

Connor was burning. The edges of his vision blurred in and out of focus, and he could hear the blood rushing in his head. His whole body felt white hot with anger. He hadn’t been this angry in months. _Stupid Hansen._ Stupid Hansen had to make fun of stupid fucking tap dancing. Connor picked up the closest thing he could reach—a pen—and threw it at the wall, just as the door open and Hansen walked in. Connor could’ve screamed. _What part of leave me the fuck alone did he not understand?_

“C-Connor?”

“The fuck do you want?” Connor snapped. _Why was he even here?_ “Thought I told you not to fucking follow me.”

“Y-Y-You’re u-u-upset. L-l-let me help.”

 _Help? He wants to help? That’s fucking rich._ “I don’t need or want your help. Get out.”

“N-No.” 

“I swear to Christ, Hansen, if you don’t get out of here right fucking now!” 

“C-C-Connor, please.”

“That’s it.” Connor felt the rage burning in his chest finally bubble up into his head. A part of him knew it was an overreaction, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from the yelling and the screaming. It was like watching a movie of himself, rather than living in the moment. “Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone? Why do you have to know how I’m doing? I never get any fucking space,” he spat. Evan winced, and took a small step back, toward his desk, and the door.

“I-I-I-I”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m not fucking done. It’s bad enough that you had to push me earlier, but you now you can’t even let me have a fucking minute to myself?” Connor gritted his teeth. His fists were so tight he could feel his nails digging into his palms.

Evan’s eyes were wide with fear and all at once Connor was slammed with guilt. He clenched his jaw tighter, now angry at himself, but unable to direct it away from the trembling boy in front of him. Connor took a step forward, and Evan shrank back.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to mind your own fucking business?” Connor sneered. “Probably not, since she never wanted anything to do with your pathetic ass. Who the fuck works over the holidays anyway?” It was a low blow, and Connor knew it. He knew Evan was already insecure about his relationship with his mother. He knew it and he exploited it. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_

Evan crumbled, unable to keep the tears back any longer. “P-P-Please, w-w-why are y-y-you doing this?”

“Because,” Connor hesitated, “Because I’m fucking angry. Because apparently you think it’s fucking funny that I used to love tap dancing. What? Too girly for you?” 

“W-W-What?”

“You fucking heard me.” Connor didn’t know what else to yell, but his head was still so loud. The anger was screaming to get out. Just like in the second grade, with Mrs. G and the printer, he had to _do_ something or he was going to explode. He stalked toward Evan, reached for the mug of pens he kept on his desk, and threw it to the ground. It shattered, scattering pens and jagged chunks of ceramic everywhere. “Just…Just get out.”

“Con—”

“Damn it, Hansen,” Connor reached for the next available possible projectile: Evan’s desk lamp, with the sky blue shade and the base and neck that looked like a tree. It hit the ground even harder than the mug. The stem snapped in half, the bulb shattered, and even the shade cracked on impact. “I said get THE FUCK OUT!” 

Evan stared at the remnants of his lamp, and then back up at Connor. His eyes were wide and searching. He was still shaking, more so now. He gulped for air, and then backed toward the door. Connor had won. Evan was too afraid to stay. Evan took one last sad look at Connor standing among the rubble of Evan’s lamp, and looking into Evan’s watery eyes, Connor’s anger started to deflate as quickly as it exploded. And then Evan was gone, taking the last shreds of Connor’s anger with him.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .....I'm sorry.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...The Immediate Aftermath. Kind of a short one. Jared is a good bean.

Evan trembled as he made his way from room 119 to Caitlyn’s dorm room. He knocked erratically on the door, and then gave into the panic completely, collapsing at her feet when she opened the door.

“Evan, wh—” She cut herself off, taking in the sobbing, crumpled boy at her doorstep. She pulled him into her dorm and let him cry for almost an hour, before shoving a cup of chamomile tea into his hands. “Okay. Tell me what happened.”

“C-C-C-Connor, he w-w-was really angry with me," Evan hiccuped. 

“Why?”

“I don’t…I don’t know.” Evan wheezed, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m sorry.”

“I can’t,” Evan took a sip of his tea, “I can’t go back there.”

“You’re welcome to crash here.” 

“T-Thanks.” Evan didn’t say much for the rest of the night, and Caitlyn seemed okay with that. Not that she didn’t care, or want to help him, but she didn’t really seem to know what do, and he didn’t want to push his problems on her, anyway. She gave him a blanket and spare pillow and he slept on the floor. He was lucky that she had a single dorm, and there was no roommate to contend with. 

The next morning, still sitting on Caitlyn’s floor, Evan called Jared. 

“Hey, dude, what’s up?”

“I need help.” Evan said, hearing the anxiety in his own voice.

“With what?” 

“Connor.”

“Gay help?” Jared asked, excitedly. 

“N-no, just. Just regular help.”

“Damn.” Jared seemed genuinely disappointed.

“Connor…I’ve told you before that Connor has a bad temper, right?” 

“Sure,” Jared confirmed. “That’s why you were scared of him at first.” 

“He—He got angry at me yesterday.”

“Are you okay?” Jared asked, all humor gone from his tone. “Did he hurt you?” 

“Physically, I’m okay.” It was nice to be reminded that _someone_ still cared. “He didn’t, like, hit me or anything.”

“But emotionally?” Jared asked knowingly. “He fucked you up, didn’t he?”

“I—Yeah,” Evan sighed. “I just wish I knew what set it off. It seemed so out of nowhere.” He felt like crying again, but he forced the lump in his throat down. He needed to keep it together in front of Jared, at least.  

“It probably had nothing to do with you,” Jared said, still uncharacteristically serious. “Guy’s got issues and he took ‘em out on you, which is a shitty thing to do, but Evan, I’m sure you did nothing wrong.”

“I know that, rationally,” Evan nodded even though Jared couldn’t see. “But, like, what if I said something that I just didn’t realize was bad.”

“Evan…”

“H-He kept referencing a comment I’d made earlier in the day, but I-I-I-I don’t know why it would’ve made him so mad.” Evan’s voice shook. He was doing a horrible job holding back his tears.

“You can’t blame yourself for him being a dick,” Jared paused, “And I swear to God, Hansen, if you apologize to him—”

“I won’t,” Evan cut Jared off, rather forcefully. “He said…He said some awful things.” 

“Evan,” Jared said in a small, soft voice, “What did he say to you?” 

“Mean stuff…” Evan hesitated. “About how I’m a-a-a-annoying a-and clingy.”

“Low fucking blow.” 

“A-a-and h-he said some stuff about my mom.” 

Jared didn’t speak for a full ten seconds. The silence was deafening. When he finally spoke again, it was nearly a shout. “He talked shit about Heidi Hansen? The same Heidi Hansen who fed me dinner three nights a week in middle school even though you guys probably couldn’t afford it? The same Heidi Hansen who had to be Mom _and_ Dad for you, and was probably better than most parents? _That_ Heidi Hansen?”

“Uh, yeah?” Evan didn’t know Jared cared so much about his mom. It was kind of sweet. 

“That’s too fucking far. Evan, I’m going to murder this boy for you, free of charge.” 

“Please don’t,” Evan said meekly. 

“He deserves it,” Jared said, “For hurting you like this.”

“Look,” Evan picked at the carpet, “This is bad. And I’m hurt, and a little bit angry, but I’ve seen so much good in Connor. I can’t just cut him out. I care about him. And, besides, he didn’t run when he saw me at my worst, so…” 

“So?” Jared didn't sound impressed. 

“So, I don’t know. Can’t I do the same for him? Can’t I give him time to apologize?”

Jared clicked his teeth, “I give him a week. After that, it’s murder time.”

“Okay, sure, whatever.” Evan rolled his eyes fondly.

“I’m serious, dude.”

Evan snorted. “Connor could kick your ass.”

“Please. He’s a god damned noodle. I’m _thicc_.” The way Jared annunciated the last word, Evan just knew he meant it to be spelled with a “C” at the end instead of a “K” and he groaned inwardly. “I could just crush him with my body.”

“I can’t believe you just called Connor a noodle.”

“You know I’m right.”

To be fair, Jared did have a point. Connor was stringy and gangly and thin. But he was also nimble, and if his hip thrusting skills from karaoke night were anything to go by, he was actually pretty muscular.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Just don’t let him back in too easily, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I don’t want this to ever happen again.”

“I know.”

“Evan Gerald Hansen, I mean it.”

“That’s not my middle name.” 

“Just…Promise me you won’t let yourself get hurt again. Promise me you’ll wait for him to come to you.” Jared sighed. “I care about you, ya nerd.”

“I know, Jared,” Evan smiled. Sometimes Jared was a really good friend, when he actually took things seriously. “I promise, I will wait for him."

“Good." 

"I should go, I've got class." Evan frowned. He felt too tired to be going to class. 

"Okay, just remember, you're a strong independent woman and you don't need no man." 

Evan rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Goodbye, Jared."  


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a date late! And also that it's angsty. Just mostly the boys being sad.

It had been three days since The Incident. Evan and Connor hadn’t spoken a single word to each other. They came and went silently, barely even making eye contact. Evan had never felt so alone. Connor came in every night with red eyes and puffy cheeks, and at first, Evan thought he had relapsed, which felt like a gut punch.

_What happened? He was doing so well._

But on the fourth night, Evan realized that despite the glassy, red eyes, Connor didn’t smell how he always used to smell after smoking weed. Instead, he still smelled how he smelled when he was sober—like the graphite staining his hands and the worn leather boots he always wore and the surprisingly fruity shampoo that he used—which meant Connor wasn’t smoking again.

Evan was honest-to-goodness relieved at that revelation. Connor hadn’t backslid as much as Evan thought. There was still hope…Except, well. There was really only one other explanation for bloodshot eyes, and it was not a pleasant possibility. The image of Connor, alone somewhere, crying…Evan didn’t want to think about it. The thought made Evan’s chest ache. As hurt as he was, he still cared about Connor, and the thought of him that upset every night made Evan feel sick. All at once he wanted to throw his arms around Connor and forgive him.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let this go. He couldn’t let Connor walk all over him. He couldn’t encourage this behavior. No matter how hard it was, Evan couldn’t let himself be passive about this. It wasn’t healthy. 

Not only did he know Jared would be disappointed in him (and that Jared was right), it was also what Doctor Sherman had said. “Passiveness leads to resentment, Evan, and that resentment turns ‘passive’ into ‘passive aggressive’ and then you and Connor would really have problems. And, beyond that, letting this slide once could lead to a toxic pattern. You have to nip this in the bud as soon as possible.”

Or, as Jared had so eloquently put it: “You make that boy come to you.”

And for the most part, Evan stuck to it. But then, it had been almost a week, and Connor still wasn’t talking and Evan couldn’t stop thinking about Connor on a park bench somewhere crying and doing who knows what else to himself and suddenly waiting seemed impossible.

Jared had given Connor a week to apologize, and after eight days, Jared was ready hold to his promise of murder. Evan pleaded with him for more time, although he couldn’t understand why Connor hadn’t just apologized.

Unless Connor wasn’t sorry.

Evan didn’t like to think that way, though. That meant it was all over. He’d lost one of his best friends, and he didn’t even know why. No more movie nights, no more studying together, no more having someone to talk him down…It was all gone, and the worst part was that he had no idea why. 

Evan frowned as Connor came in on the ninth night, eyes red as usual. Connor’s left forearm brushed the door jamb as he walked in, and he winced. Evan thought of the scars Connor had shown him and shuddered. Connor looked up for a moment, just barely meeting Evan’s eyes, before looking back down again. Evan had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something. He attempted to refocus on his homework instead of thinking about how sad Connor looked, with moderate success.

This really had come at the worst possible time. Evan was in the middle of midterms, and he couldn’t focus on anything. He already knew he failed one of his exams, because Connor hadn’t come home until 3 AM the morning of the exam, and Evan hadn’t gotten any sleep. Connor walked in smelling of cheap liquor and Evan’s heart sank. He’d done better on his other exams, but not by much. He still couldn’t focus on anything for longer than a minute without thinking of Connor. 

He’d never had all his thoughts consumed by another person before, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. He should’ve been able to move on from Connor. They’d only been friends for a few months. Losing Connor shouldn’t have felt so…impossible. But every time Evan thought of never talking to Connor again, Evan felt like he’d been kicked in the gut by someone wearing soccer cleats. It was almost like losing a limb. He’d learned to live with Connor, and he lived _better_ with Connor. It was a hard thing to realize and an even harder thing to admit to himself, but it was true. 

He cared about Connor more and faster than he ever thought possible, and it was terrifying to realize that. Maybe that’s how friendship worked when you weren’t raised together from birth. Because, sure, Jared was like a brother to Evan, and he wouldn’t be able to handle losing him, but this felt completely different. Losing Jared would be losing a brother, someone he’d had in his life for as long as he could remember, and then some. Of course it would be impossible and emotionally devastating. It would be weird if it wasn’t.

But Connor?

Connor had only been in Evan’s life since September, and they’d only been friends since October, and even then, they weren’t close until December. Losing Connor should’ve been at least somewhat bearable. But Connor had understood Evan in a way no one else had, in a way Evan didn’t think it was possible someone could understand him. Connor made Evan feel like he wasn’t so alone, and despite how much he knew Jared and his mom cared, they had never been able to make him feel that way. There was just…something about Connor, but Evan couldn’t figure out what it was. Being around him made Evan feel…Evan didn’t know. Warm? Happy? Whole? A little bit tingly, but in a good way?

But whatever it was, no one else had ever made Evan feel even close to the way Connor made him feel, and he had no idea why it was that Connor, of all people, made him feel that way.

Maybe it was because Connor had seen every broken part that made up Evan Hansen, more than anyone else had seen, and despite it all—despite the panic attacks, and insecurities, despite the indecisiveness, despite the strange idiosyncrasies and compulsions, despite the self loathing, and the self pity—Connor had decided to stay.

At least, until now.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor apologizes.

It took Connor two weeks to apologize to Evan, but it happened eventually. It was the second to last day before spring break, so maybe the pressure of a week apart physically and not just emotionally, pushed Connor to it. Or maybe it just took Connor that long to figure out what to say, and how to say it. Evan couldn’t really say why it took Connor so long, why he approached Evan on the fourteenth day of tense silence, as Evan packed for spring break.

“Hey,” was all Connor said in barely a whisper, coming up behind Evan.

Evan froze. “H-Hey,” he parroted, putting down the polo shirt he was folding, and turning to face Connor.

“We should talk.” Connor ran a hand through his greasy, tangled hair. “Or, I should talk, I guess. Erm, apologize.”

Connor seemed afraid, the way his voice trembled just slightly and he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact. Evan felt himself nod for Connor to continue. 

“I was so, _so_ out of line to yell at you like that. And to break your stuff. I’m so sorry.” Connor let out a long breath. “I don’t, uh, you don’t have to forgive me right away, or ever, but I had to apologize.” 

“Connor.” Evan hesitated. “Can you just…Can you just explain what happened? Why, uh, why did you get so angry? What did I do wrong?” It was all Evan needed to know. _What happened?_

“Right.” Connor sat down on his bed, and motioned for Evan to sit next to him, which Evan did slowly. He looked up at Connor expectantly. Connor took a deep breath before speaking: “Tap dancing. It was the tap dancing.”

“Because I teased you?” Evan still didn’t understand. _Even I’m not that sensitive._

“No, I mean,” Connor shook his head. “That’s what, um,” he sighed, and furrowed his brow, as if he was trying to remember something. “That’s what triggered my anger. But you did nothing wrong, okay? I want that to be clear. My therapist said that I have to take responsibility of my anger in a healthy way, instead of, like, internalizing guilt and becoming more angry, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Evan nodded. “Go on.” 

“I started dancing when I was five years old. I did tap and ballet, and Zoe did jazz and hip hop. I loved it, and I had ‘natural talent’ according to my teachers. I got solos during every recital. I got cast in the background of a couple touring companies of actual professional musicals while they were in town. I was a god damn star, Hansen,” Connor seemed almost wistful. “It’s really the only talent I’ve ever been recognized for, and I loved it. Tap dancing used to be my whole life. Some kids dream of being astronauts and racecar drivers. I dreamed of being a famous dancer.” 

“I didn’t realize it was so important to you.” So, Evan had made fun of Connor’s childhood dream. That’s not cool. Connor’s anger still wasn’t justified, but it was starting to make some sense. 

“Of course you didn’t,” Connor shook his head, his normally sharp blue eyes were watery and full of regret. “I never told you.” 

“Why, uh…” Evan fidgeted with a loose thread of Connor’s duvet, “Why’d you stop? If you don’t mind me asking?” Evan hated to pry, but something about Connor’s tone made him feel like there was more to the story.

“My dad made me quit when I turned thirteen. Suddenly, my dad decided that I had to ‘be a man’ and the thing I loved most wasn’t part of that. Dancing was ‘girly’ or ‘gay’ and sometimes when he was really in a bad mood ‘faggy.’” Connor’s jaw clenched, but the anger was all directed where it belonged, at his dad. “I think he’s still convinced a pair of fucking tights turned me gay.” 

Evan’s mouth went dry. “So…When I laughed at it…” He trailed off.

“It brought it all back.” Connor finally looked at Evan, remorse written all over his face, “It wasn’t you, Evan. It was my anger and resentment towards my dad.” 

Finally, it made sense. “I understand.” 

“I’m so, so sorry.” Connor folded his arms over his chest and frowned.

“I know.” Evan put a reassuring hand on Connor’s shoulder. There was just one thing that still bothered him. “There’s just…One thing you said, that especially hurt.”

“What I said about you mom, right?” Connor asked, shaking his head. 

Evan nodded in confirmation, suddenly panicked that Connor was going to say that he meant every word of it. He dropped his hand and looked anywhere but Connor.

“It wasn’t true. It wasn’t true at all. I said it because I knew it would hurt you more than anything mean I said about you directly. That’s how I am when I get out of control like that. Just ask Zoe,” Connor blew out a long exhale. He put his hands on Evan’s shoulders, forcing Evan to meet his eyes. “Listen to me. Your mom loves you so much. I can tell by the way you talk about her, and how she calls you every day, and how hard she’s working to put you through school. She loves you. You’re not a burden. You’re her son. Okay?”

Evan smiled softly, blinking back tears. “O-Okay.” 

“And you’re not a burden on me,” Connor swallowed hard. “You’re not clingy or annoying or any of that.” Connor’s eyes were pleading with Evan. “You’re my best friend, Evan Hansen." 

Evan took a shaky breath, unable to control the tears rolling down his cheeks. He sniffed, unsure what to do or say next. It took him a few seconds to realize he could finally say what he’d wanted for two weeks. “I forgive you,” he said, his voice ragged with tears.

And then Connor was hugging him so tightly Evan almost couldn’t breath and everything felt right again.

“I forgive you,” Evan whispered again, burying his face in Connor’s neck. 

“I’m so sorry, Evan.” 

“I know, I know,” Evan pulled back to face Connor, but not far enough that his arms had to leave Connor’s sides. “I forgive you. It’s okay.”

“Thank you,” Connor said earnestly. They hugged again, and Evan clutched Connor’s coat as tightly as he could.

“But this can’t happen again,” Evan said, breaking away after a few moments. 

“I know, I—” 

“We need to think of something I can do the next time you get angry, to calm you down. Or something you can do yourself.”

“Oh.” Connor’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open just slightly. He looked dumbfounded, but in a good way, like he expected Evan to start scolding him or something. _Has no one else suggested something like this before? No wonder he’s caught in a cycle of anger._ “Actually, my therapist suggested that I count backwards from sixty, and take a deep breath with each count.”

Evan beamed. “That sounds like a great idea. Breathing exercises help calm me down from anxiety, so hopefully it’ll work for you, as well.” It warmed Evan that Connor had been talking to hid therapist about his anger. It was a reminder that Connor was trying. Evan pulled him into a hug again.

“Cool.” Connor mumbled into Evan’s hair. They stayed in that hug for several minutes. Evan was just glad to have Connor back. He really thought it was over for good. But it wasn’t, and this was real. Evan could hear Connor’s heartbeat, slow and steady and reassuring. He was here. He was here, and they were okay.

Evan gave Connor what was supposed to be a mischievous look when they finally separated, but Evan was probably too puffy and watery to pull it off.

“What?”

Evan chuckled. “You owe me a lamp. And a mug.”

Connor rolled his eyes fondly. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Hansen.”

“C’mon, you didn’t even clean up your mess of shattered glass.”

“Okay, okay,” Connor laughed, “I’ll take you to Ikea in after spring break. Deal?” 

“Deal.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan goes for a walk in the woods. Connor is afraid of heights.

Evan buzzed in excitement. Spring break was over, and finally, _finally_ , for the first time in months, he was going out into the forest. It was early April, still cold enough for thick jackets and gloves, but warm enough that the snow had mostly melted, and the trails were starting to open back up for hiking. And it was Saturday, finally. The week at school after Spring Break, waiting for go for a hike, had felt like an eternity.

“What’s got you all whipped up?” Connor asked, glancing up from what looked like a trashy teen vampire novel, at least judging by the fanged smiley face on the cover.

Evan stopped in his tracks with a shoe in one hand and a half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the other. “W-What?”

“You’re, like, all over the place.” Connor smirked. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s endearing as hell. But I’m getting dizzy just watching you.”

“Oh, uh,” Evan tried not to dwell on _'endearing as hell'_ and  _‘watching you’_ because clearly those were just expressions. Connor wasn't actually paying that much attention to Evan. He was reading.  _Right?_ “I’m going for a walk in the woods.”

Connor snorted. “The woods?”

Evan shrugged and shoved the remains of his sandwich in his mouth. “Hey, you know I love trees,” he spoke through the mouth full.

“That I do.”

“And it’s finally spring again.” Evan pulled the shoe on.

“Hansen, it’s not even 50 degrees outside.” 

Evan didn’t look up from tying his shoe. “So, I’ll wear a jacket.” 

“What’s so special about trees anyway?” Connor scoffed.

“I could say the same thing to you about drawing!” Evan’s eyes narrowed. “Or that book you’re reading. Judging from the worn out spine, you’ve read it more than a few times.”

Connor clutched the book to his chest. “Back the fuck off of Vladimir Todd.”

Evan gave Connor an emphatic look to say: _That’s exactly my point._

“Touché.” Connor seemed amused, although it was sometimes hard to tell with him. 

“You know,” Evan said, picking at a stain on his jeans and keeping his eyes trained on the shoe he’d just finished tying, “I-I-If you really want to know what’s so special, uh, y-y-y-you could come with me?” 

Connor blinked twice.

“I m-m-m-mean, y-y-you don’t have to—It was stupid—I’m sorry, I-I—”

“No, uh,” Connor cleared his throat, “That sounds great, actually.”

So, an hour later, Evan found himself dragging Connor through the mud and trees. He was surprised that Connor was so game for a walk in the forest. It was nice. They wound along just about a mile, until they came to the clearing, and the great old oak tree that Evan loved so much.

“This is w-where I usually come.” 

“You just hang out in a meadow?” Connor’s eyes crinkled as a smile pulled at the corners of his lips.

“No, uh, up there.” Evan pointed to the oak tree.

_“Oh.”_ Maybe it was Evan’s imagination, but Connor’s voice seemed to wobble slightly.

“C’mon,” Evan grabbed the lowest branch and pulled himself up. He’d made it about halfway up the tree, when he realized Connor was still very much on the ground. “Connor? Everything okay?”

“The tree, uh…” Connor’s face seemed paler than usual. “The tree is wet.” 

“Oh, don’t be a priss, Murphy.” Evan called over his shoulder, as he continued his ascent towards the top of the tree.

“I’m not a priss!” Connor whined, and reluctantly started to follow Evan up the tree.

Evan made it to his usual perch near the top of the tree pretty quickly, but Connor, despite his long, lean limbs, was not a climber. He clung awkwardly to the damp tree branches and seemed completely unaware of how best to move his body to get farther up the tree. He was about as graceful as a giraffe. Evan didn’t even try to stifle his giggle.

“Shut up, Hansen.” Connor’s voice was belabored. Evan quieted down as Connor struggled the rest of the way up the tree and slid onto the branch next to Evan. Connor was out of breath and his cheeks were pink with his effort. He leaned against the trunk of the tree for a moment, catching his breath.

“So?” Evan asked, after Connor’s breathing had mostly steadied.  

“So what?” Connor furrowed his brow.

“So, what do you think?” Evan elbowed Connor in the ribs. “Nice view, huh?”            

“View?” Connor asked hesitantly. His eyes flicked out towards the tree tops, and further in the distance, the grey buildings of the campus. Immediately he looked away, all color drained from his cheeks, and refocused on a piece of moss growing on the tree trunk. “N-Nice.”

“You okay?” Evan’s stomach churned. He’d never heard Connor stutter before. He’d seen Connor nervous and unsure, but this was…Something else. He was scared.

“F-F-Fine.” Connor grimaced. Evan shook his head. Clearly, Connor was not fine. He was practically shaking.

“Are you afraid of heights?" 

Connor scoffed, “Pfff, no! I’m—I’m not afraid.”

Evan raised an eyebrow skeptically and shifted his weight just enough to cause the branch to sway. Connor’s eyes widened and he scrambled to grip the trunk. He held on so tightly his knuckles went white.

“What the fuck, Hansen?” He snapped.

“Not afraid, huh?” Evan smirked.

“Okay, fine. I’m absolutely terrified of heights,” Connor frowned. “You’ve discovered my kryptonite. I hope you’re satisfied.”

“Hey, now,” Evan tried to be soothing. “Maybe I can help.”

“I get nervous on elevators, Hansen,” Connor snorted. “I thought you of all people would understand irrational fears.” 

“Of course,” Evan nodded. “I’m not saying that I’ll magically make things better. But maybe I could calm you down a little.”

“Alright,” Connor sighed, resigned. “Sure.”

“Okay, first things first: look at me.” Evan reached out and put a hand under Connor’s chin to pull his head around to face Evan. Connor quivered. “Now,” Evan continued, “Imagine I’m Billie Joe Armstrong.”

“What?”

“Or your sketchbook, or black nail polish,” Evan threw up his hands. “Something that makes you, Connor Murphy, happy.”

“Oh.” Connor gave Evan a look he couldn’t read, and smiled. “Something that makes me happy. Got it.” Connor took a slow, deep breath and seemed to calm, his smile lingering. 

"See this isn't so bad, right?" Evan asked gently. 

Connor shook his head. "No, you're right. It's actually kind of nice."

No sooner had the words left Connor's mouth than the wind picked up, and the top of the tree began to shake violently. Connor froze, all trace of the color that had returned to his cheeks gone, replaced with wide-eyed fear.

“Connor.” Evan put his hand over Connor’s arm. “It’s okay.”

“No. Nope. Absolutely not. I have to get down. _Now.”_  

Evan nodded dumbly, “Okay.” But Connor was already scrambling down. _Well_ , he thought, _at least I tried._


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone order domesticity with a side of pining? (They're going to Ikea)

Connor had been in an Ikea quite a few times before, but not in years. Not since he was twelve years old, and his dad wanted to teach him to “build furniture.” Because apparently putting together a dresser from Ikea counts as “building furniture.” Right around twelve and thirteen was when Larry started really pushing masculinity on Connor. It was all “build furniture” and “watch baseball with me” and “don’t tell your mom that I’m letting you have a sip of my beer” and shit like that. At least he got meatballs out of the Ikea debacle, and putting the dresser together _was_ kind of fun, not that he’d ever admit that. Not a total loss.

Now, he trailed behind Evan, who wandered down the pristine corridors, and around the showroom displays with awe in his eyes.

“Hansen, Hansen, slow down.” Connor let his amusement come out in his voice. Evan skidded to his stop, his sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor.

“Sorry,” Evan’s face flushed, “I’ve just…never been in an Ikea before.”

“How the hell have you never been in an Ikea before?” Connor wasn’t expecting that. He thought everyone had to have gone to an Ikea at least once. But that did explain Evan’s excitement about it. It _was_ kind of amazing, if you’d never seen it before.

Evan’s smile fell, “Oh, w-w-well, most of our furniture was second hand.”

_Shit._ _I’m such an asshole._ It took every ounce of Connor’s self control not to slap himself in the face. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to, like, be a dick.”

“It’s o-o-okay.” Evan put a gentle hand on Connor’s arm, and looked up to meet his eyes. Connor’s breath caught in his throat. Even through his heavy black coat, he could feel the warmth from Evan’s touch. It spread from his arm through his whole body, up and down his spine. He tensed, involuntarily. Evan dropped his hand immediately, but didn’t break eye contact.

“So,” Connor tore his eyes away from Evan’s, trying desperately to pull himself back to reality, “We’re here for a lamp.”

Evan blinked. “Y-Yeah. A lamp.”

“I’m sorry that we can’t get the same one you had,” Connor said. The lamp he’d broken had been a thrift store find, and all the internet searches in the world hadn’t supplied them with a match. 

“Connor.” Evan didn’t have to say anything other than Connor’s name, his tone carried everything else he wanted to say: stop beating yourself up, that lamp wasn’t really that important, I forgave you, let’s move on. 

“I know.” Connor nodded. He wasn’t trying to dwell on what happened, but it was hard to feel like he’d done enough to make up for it. “So. What are you thinking?”

“Something blue, probably,” Evan shrugged. “It’s my favorite color, after all.” 

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you want a blue lamp?” Connor flashed a lopsided half smile.

“You’re one to talk, mister ‘black like my soul’” Evan laughed.

“Touché,” Connor conceded, “But at least black isn’t my favorite color.” 

Evan stopped. “It’s not?” 

“Nope,” Connor said, popping his lips on the end of the word, just a tad smug.

“Well, then,” Evan cocked his head to the side, “What _is_ your favorite color?”

“Blood red.” 

Evan narrowed his eyes. “Oh, for…You’re ridiculous." 

Connor grinned. “I try.”

Evan just rolled his eyes and sped up to look at a chrome desk lamp. He examined it for a moment before scrunching up his face, which told Connor what he already knew: the lamp was not his style. It was too…metallic.

Connor watched as Evan flitted around the showroom, looking at mock bedroom after mock bedroom—and the occasional kitchen or bathroom. Evan was taken with how _nice_ everything looked. And Connor was taken with Evan. His cheeks were pink from running around, and his hair kept falling in his face. He’d push it back in frustration every so often and mumble about needing a haircut, but Connor thought it looked good a little bit longer. Connor might’ve been hallucinating, but he swore it was starting to curl. _Does Evan have curly hair? Is that why he keeps it so short?_

Connor’s thoughts were interrupted by Evan’s voice, “Connor! Connor!” 

“Hm? What?” Connor blinked. Evan was standing in front of a pale blue desk lamp with an adjustable metal neck painted white. It looked expensive.

“Look.” Evan gestured to the lamp. It did suit him. 

“It’s nice,” Connor nodded. 

“It’s kind of expensive…” Evan lowered his eyes. 

“I fucking shattered your last lamp,” Connor said, “Least I can do is replace it with something nice. Also, reminder that my dad’s a highly paid lawyer and my mom is East Coast old money. I think I can afford it.”

“Right.” Evan’s face pinched together, and he crossed his arms, sort of shrinking himself down in size.

Connor sighed. “It’s not charity. I’m replacing something that I broke.” 

“I know, I just…” Evan shrugged. “W-w-what if you start resenting me for spending your m-money or something.”

“Hansen, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Connor almost laughed. “Trust me, spending my parents’ money is my favorite hobby.”

Evan snorted. “Alright, you’ve convinced me.” Evan turned back to the lamp, lifting his hand to reach for it and pick it up. “So, now what?” 

“There’s another floor, that has everything in boxes.”

“Oh…” Evan hesitated. “How do we find the lamp on a whole other floor?” 

“There should be a number,” Connor pointed to a label attached to the lamp shade.

“Got it,” Evan set the lamp back down on the faux maple desk, and pulled out his phone to take a picture of the code. He took the picture and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Let’s go.”

Connor lead Evan towards the elevator, but they’d barely made it a few yards before Evan got distracted by a blown glass sink basin. “Hansen,” Connor groaned, “C’mon.”

“Connor, the sink is _above_ the counter,” Evan said, awe in his voice.

“I will not hesitate to physically drag you out of this Ikea,” Connor joked. Evan was still staring at the sink with wide eyes. _How can he be so adorable? That has to be illegal. I’m calling the police._

“You will not.”

“Wanna bet?” And then Connor was grabbing Evan’s hand and pulling him along as fast as he could. They both stumbled a few times, but they made it almost all the way to the elevator before Evan planted his feet and tightened his grip on Connor’s hand.

“Connor!” Evan laughed, slightly out of breath, “Stop!”

Connor was already slowing down. “Okay, okay.”

They’d ended up in a section filled with different configurations of couches, coffee tables, and throw pillows. All of them reminded Connor a little too much of his parents’ house. Well, except for one, which was clearly trying to appeal to twenty year olds shopping for their first apartments. The couch was faux leather, dyed to be peachy orange, and there was a white pillow that read “#YOLO” in gold cursive, and another one, which caught Evan’s eye.

“Look,” he pointed with his free hand. “We should buy that.” The pillow was black, with the words “LEAVE ME ALONE” written in silver, jagged lettering that must've been what Ikea considered an edgy font. “Seems like your style.” 

“Oh, _haha_.” Connor bit out, although honestly he _did_ like it. 

“I wonder if they have a G Note pillow?” Evan asked, looking up at Connor with a slight, mischievous smile.

“I bet I can find that online,” Connor grinned, “And if I do, I’ll buy it with no hesitation, and then you have to live with an awful MCR pillow.”

Evan opened his mouth to respond, but he was cut off by a shrill, enthusiastic voice behind them. “Looking for something in particular?” It was a sales associate, with short brown hair and big brown eyes, and coffee breath.

“Oh, uh—” Connor tried to stop her before they got trapped, knowing how much Evan would hate it.

“My name is Carly, and I’m here to help you with anything you need. We have a huge selection of living room furniture, perfect for a new couple’s apartment,” the sales associate, Carly, gave a sly wink. “How long have you been together?”

Evan turned bright red.

“Oh, no, we’re not,” Connor chuckled at himself, “We’re not together. We’re just…Just here for a lamp.”

“Oh.” Carly glanced at their still clasped hands and then back up at Connor. “Sorry about that. Just, uh, let me know if you need anything.” And then she was gone as quickly as she’d come. Connor felt Evan’s entire body relax.

“That was awkward,” Evan forced an uncomfortable laugh, dropped Connor’s hand, and took a few steps towards the elevators. 

“Yeah, for sure.” Connor followed Evan.

“I can’t believe she thought we were dating,” Evan laughed awkwardly again. 

“I know,” Connor nodded, “Totally ridiculous.” But, really, it wasn’t. They were at a furniture store together, holding hands and laughing, and looking at pillows. It was almost offensively domestic. Connor felt a pang in his chest.

“I mean, we’d make a terrible couple,” Evan was still forcing laughter when they reached the elevator. 

“A terrible couple,” Connor echoed, ignoring the growing ache in his chest.

“Us,” Evan laughed quietly, and shook his head. “A couple.”

 

 


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Connor's birthday. (He's an aries, fight me about it)

“Did you know that serial killers didn’t exist until the early 20th century?” 

“ _What_?” Evan looked up from his history textbook to look at Connor. They’d been studying in comfortable silence for almost an hour. 

“It’s true!” Connor picked up his psych textbook. “Investigators had never seen killers who killed for seemingly no reason before.” 

“Okay, sure,” Evan said, “But why are you telling me this?”

Connor shrugged. “I dunno. I thought it was interesting.”

Evan laughed. “You’re such a weirdo.”

“Says the guy with a tree fetish.” 

“I don’t have a—”

Evan was interrupted by the sound of Connor’s phone ringing. Connor picked it up off his desk and pinched up his face immediately.

“Hey, Dad.” He answered flatly. “Sup?” A pause. “Thanks, I guess…Is that all? K. Bye.”

“That was…uh…a short conversation.”

“He wanted to wish me a happy birthday,” Connor scoffed. “Like he cares.”

Evan closed his book. “It’s your birthday?! Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

Connor shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t know…I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Connor, it’s your birthday!” Evan threw up his arms. “We have to do _something_.”

“We really don’t…” Connor shifted and crossed his arms.

“Oh, come on!” Evan groaned. He suddenly knew exactly how his mother felt, like, all the time. “It doesn’t have to be a big thing.”

“What would we even do?” Connor picked at a loose thread on his coat. 

“Uh, well…” Evan hesitated. _What could we do? I don’t know any places around here other than that karaoke bar._ “Anything you want.”

“Anything?” Connor raised an eyebrow suggestively.

“I mean,” Evan’s voice cracked, “within reason.”

“Hansen, Hansen,” Connor laughed. “Calm down.”

“O-O-Okay.” Evan nodded. “So…What do you want to do?”

“Do you like ice cream?” Connor asked.

“I mean,” Evan hesitated, “I’m a little bit lactose intolerant.”

Connor winced. “Sorry.” 

“No, no, uh,” Evan shook his head. “I mean, I’ll still eat it. I’m not _that_ lactose intolerant, y-y’know? Do you want to go for ice cream?” 

“Well,” Connor glanced down, “That’s what we used to do when I was little…” 

“That’s sweet.” Evan couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll look up ice cream places.” He pulled out his phone and typed ‘ice cream shops’ into the Google app. A few places came up, but the one with the best yelp reviews (which is what Jared always told Evan to look at before he picked a place to eat at) was called _A La Mode._

“ _A La Mode?_ ” Connor nodded, considering it. “Okay. Sure. Let’s go and celebrate nineteen years on this godforsaken rock.”

 “Awesome.” Evan hopped off his bed and reached for his sneakers, ignoring the dull tone in Connor’s voice. He knew Connor didn’t mean it. “Do you need to get ready?” 

“Oh, yeah, let me go powder my nose,” Connor rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay, put a sock in it, Murphy.”

So, they went out to ice cream. _A La Mode_ was a nice place, with walls painted sky blue, and a vast array of housemade flavors. Connor got some impossibly large sundae with whipped cream, nuts, three different syrups, a brownie base, and a cherry on top. Evan didn’t quite the appetite for something that massive, and instead opted for a single scoop in a bowl, with a waffle cone sticking out of the top—less messy that way.

Connor made it about halfway through his mountainous sundae before he dropped his spoon and leaned back in his chair. “Okay, I need a break.”

“You’re not actually gonna finish that are you?” Evan felt satisfied after only his single scoop. He couldn’t imagine eating something so massive.

“Are you judging me on my birthday, Hansen?”

Evan snorted. “It’s just that you’re so skinny…Where do you put it all?” 

Connor shrugged. “Dunno.” He picked up his spoon again and dug into the ice cream again.

Evan scrapped the bottom of his bowl with his spoon.

“So,” Connor started through a mouthful of whipped cream. “What did you get me?”

“What?” Evan looked up from his empty bowl. “I don’t…I mean, I didn’t know today was your birthday until a little over an hour ago.”

Connor swallowed his whipped cream. “You’re a terrible friend.” But he was smiling, so Evan just smiled back.

“Well…There is one thing,” Evan hesitated. “It’s not really a tangible…thing, though. And you might not even want it, but I’ve been thinking about it for, y’know, awhile, and I guess now is as good a time as any to say something.”

Connor cocked his head to the side, “What is it?” 

Evan bit his lip. “Do you maybe, uh…Do you want to be roommates again next year?” The truth was, Evan had been meaning to ask this for a couple days, but he wasn’t really sure how to broach the topic. 

Connor blinked twice. “Oh.”

“The, uh, deadline for housing is coming up soon…” Evan took a shaky breath. “There’s, like, a house thing? Like, on campus and stuff, and I think a bunch of other people would live there, but there’d be more space. And we could be roommates again. But we should apply soon, if we want to get in.”

Connor didn’t say anything. He just sort of stared at Evan. Evan’s heart plummeted. _Oh no, oh no, he doesn’t want to live with me again. This was a mistake._

“You want to live with me again?” Connor seemed upset? Or maybe that was just Evan’s anxiety talking. It was hard to tell sometimes. 

“Y-Yeah?” Evan felt his leg bouncing underneath him. “I mean, we’re friends…” 

“Right, right.” Connor shook his head, “I’m just surprised. After everything you’ve had to deal with this year. Why would you want to do it again?”

_Oh._  

“Well, because I care about you, Connor.” Evan gave Connor a soft smile. “I like hanging out with you.”

“I like hanging out with you, too, Hansen.” Connor took another bite of his sundae.

“Besides, I know I haven’t been much of a picnic either…I don’t know. It just makes sense for us to stick together, right?” Evan could feel a blush creeping across his cheeks. He wasn’t sure why he felt so suddenly vulnerable.

“Yeah,” Connor said softly and nodded, “Right.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Evan made a mental note to put in a housing application as soon as they got back to their room. Connor kept eating his birthday sundae, slurping melted ice cream and flavored syrup off his spoon, every so often. It was less of a sundae at that point and more of a delicious, cold soup.

Eventually he finished it, and they left A La Mode for the warm late April air.

“We definitely need to come back here,” Connor said, as they walked slowly back to their room, Evan trailing slightly behind. “That was great." 

“Totally,” Evan agreed. He hoped that meant Connor had a good birthday. “Hey,” he started, speeding up to pass Connor, “Hey, stop, for a second, please?” 

Connor stopped, letting his eyes meet Evan’s. “Hey.”

“Did you have a good birthday?”

“Evan,” Connor smiled broadly. Evan hadn’t seen such a full, real smile from Connor in awhile. Connor’s smiles were usually half his mouth pulled up wryly, but this…this was soft and bright and full and warm. “This has been the best birthday I’ve had in a long time.”

“Oh,” Evan felt warmth bloom in his chest. “Good.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [humming to myself] grab a scoop at a la mode...


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan has a panic attack about finals, and Connor calms him down.

It was a warm day in early May, Spring was giving way to summer, and Evan had never been more ready for school to be over. The Spring air still carried a slight chill, but the sun was shining more and more with each passing day. Unfortunately, studying was almost impossible for Evan when the weather was nice. He just wanted to be outside, not in a stuffy library up to his ears in flashcards and study guides and textbooks and, worst of all, stress. He felt nauseous with anxiety over his final exams. His leg bounced uncontrollably and the words in his history textbook blurred in front of him as he tried to force down the thoughts in his head. 

_What’s the point of studying? You’re going to fail. You’re so stupid. How could you think you could ever amount to anything? You stupid fucking failure. You’re going to fail all your finals and flunk out of school and end up living on the streets and your mom is going to be **so** disappointed in you, as usual. _

“Hey, Ev, you okay?” Caitlyn asked from across the table. That was one nice thing. He wasn’t studying alone. Caitlyn and Connor were both there.

“Just stressed about finals and stuff,” Evan shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Connor said firmly. 

“Leave it alone, Connor,” Evan shook his head. “We need to study.”

“You need to breath, Hansen.” 

“I am breathing.” _What is Connor talking about?_  

“Connor’s right, Evan. You’re hyperventilating.” Caitlyn had put down her pen and tried to meet Evan’s eye.

Evan took a deep breath, suddenly aware that his breathing was off. He didn’t always notice it at first. Evan’s blurred vision got even blurrier as his breath got heavier and shakier. 

_“Evan,”_ He heard Connor’s suddenly faraway voice. _“Evan, breath.”_

Evan tried to do as he was told, suddenly feeling a hand on his back. “C-C-Connor?”

“Yeah,” Connor’s voice confirmed. “It’s me.”

“You should probably take him back to your dorm,” Caitlyn said. There was rustling of papers as one of them, or maybe both of them, put Evan’s books back in his bag (Connor had only brought his sketchbook).

Then Connor was talking again. “Evan? Can you stand?" 

Evan nodded weakly. He stood slowly, trying to swallow the pain in his chest.

“We’re gonna walk back to the dorm, now, okay?” Connor’s voice was gentle. All Evan could do was nod in return. He let Connor guide him through the library and across campus, willing his legs not to give out underneath him.

Somehow, they made it back to room 119. Evan let himself collapse onto his bed almost immediately. He didn’t notice at first, but Connor sat down next to him, rubbing circles on his back. 

“It’s okay,” Connor tried, “You’re gonna to be okay.”

“I-I-I-I-I.”

“ _Shh,”_ Connor said, a little too forcefully, and Evan flinched. “Just, just remember, in for 10, hold for 6, out for 10.”

Evan nodded, and tried to control his breathing. His heart rate seemed to slow, but he was still trembling, and his mind hadn’t stopped racing. _You’re a stupid, worthless failure. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

“Evan, breathe,” Connor said again.

“I’m-I’m, t-t-t-t-trying,” Evan managed to say between wheezes. 

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” Connor repeated himself.

Evan’s panic attack hit it’s peak, then, and he curled into himself, feeling like his chest was caving in. _You’re noting but a useless failure. You’re too stupid for your classes. You’re not good enough. You don’t deserve to live. The whole world would be better off if you were gone. Oh, God, Connor is helping me. I’m such a burden on Connor, he’s going to hate me, because he was trying to draw and now he has to deal with this bullshit. Why can’t my brain just be normal?_

Evan sucked in a breath. Connor’s arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly. Connor’s embrace was warm and firm and comforting, and Evan found his panic starting to dwindle. He took a shaky breath. Evan as his breath steadied and evened out, Connor didn’t loosen his hold.

“Your breathing sounds better,” Connor noted.

“Y-Yeah,” Evan tried to smile. “You can…You can let go, now, if you want.” 

“Are you better?”

Evan wasn’t sure how to answer that. He was still anxious and completely overwhelmed with school, but he wasn’t actually panicking anymore. He bit his lip and then settled on, “A little.” 

“I’m not letting go until you are completely better,” Connor said firmly.

Evan chuckled softly at that. “You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe so,” Connor didn’t disagree, “But I’m an idiot who just talked you down from a panic attack. I mean, really, where would you be without me?” 

Evan knew Connor was joking, but the truth was he wasn’t sure he would’ve made it through the past school year without Connor. Connor was like a light in the darkness, and he was so lucky to have been randomly placed with him. 

“Honestly?” Evan pulled himself out of Connor’s awkward embrace so he could meet his friend’s eye. “I don’t know.”

“Woah,” Connor put his hands up. “I didn’t mean for this to get serious.”

“Sorry.” Evan looked down at his unmade bed.

“No, no, I was joking,” Connor rushed to assure Evan. “I don’t know where I’d be without you, either.”

Evan could tell Connor meant it.

As Evan calmed, his limbs felt weighted down with fatigue, as was the norm after a bad panic attack. “I’m tired, Connor.”

“You can go to sleep,” Connor moved to stand up.

“Stay,” Evan said, reaching out and grabbing hold of Connor’s jacket. Connor stopped. He shed the jacket, and his jeans, electing to pull on some pajama pants he’d left on the floor. He crossed the room to turn off the light.

“Do you want to change into something comfier?” He asked before he did.

Evan shook his head. He wasn’t wearing jeans, just some old sweats because he hadn’t bothered to do laundry. So, Evan slid back in his bed to make room for Connor, and Connor laid down with a leg hanging off the edge. 

“This, uh, might be weird, but um,” Evan stuttered. “Can you hold me again?”

Connor’s eyes widened, even in the darkness, but he complied. 

Once again, Evan felt at ease in Connor’s embrace, and he fell asleep quickly.

This time, when he woke up in Connor’s arms, he didn’t leave. Instead, he snuggled deeper under the covers and closed his eyes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is kind of short, but I'm also gonna post on Monday. I'm gonna start posting twice a week, on Mondays and Thursdays, instead of just on Thursdays.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor drinks a red-bull.

It was the last night Evan was spending in the dorms, and he was packing. Finals were over, and Evan felt light. He had three and a half months of summer ahead of him. Sure, he’d miss Connor, but Evan loved summer. In summer, he could hike all day, and read whatever he wanted, and there was no pressure to do anything.

And he’d get to hang out with Jared a lot more, which he was about eighty percent sure was a plus.

Evan zipped up his duffle bag and pulled it off his bed. He was almost completely packed and ready to leave. He didn’t want to have any last minute packing to do when his mom showed up the next morning. She was actually able to get the day off, and he didn’t want her to have to spend it moving him out. Not that he had all that much stuff. He’d had to take the train on move in day, so he really couldn’t take that much stuff. Just his duffle bag and a backpack.

He glanced around the dorm. It felt empty. Partially because Connor was off doing who knows what, and partially because both of them had packed up all their stuff. Evan was almost going to miss room 119. He’d been through a lot in that room. He sat down on his bed with a sigh. Evan really hadn’t expected to be so attached to the space, but he was stupidly sentimental.

“Hansen,” Connor’s voice and the crash of the door thrown open broke Evan from his thoughts. He looked up to see Connor leaning against the door jamb, slightly out of breath, grinning.

“Hey.”

  
“C’mon, I want to take you somewhere.” There was a gleam in Connor’s eye that could only be described as mischievous.

Evan hesitated. “You…want to…take me somewhere?” 

“It’s our last night here, we should do something!” Connor was almost vibrating with excitement. 

“You certainly,” Evan cleared his throat awkwardly, “Have a lot of energy tonight…” 

“I drank a red bull,” Connor shrugged, “Now, let’s go!” 

“There’s no way I can say no to this, is there?” Evan shook his head. 

“Nope.”

Evan stood up, grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys, and followed Connor out the door. “Alright, fine.”

“I promise you won’t regret this.”

“I already do.” 

They took Connor’s car, a beat up ’96 Toyota Camry—midnight black, of course. He’d filled it with pine tree air fresheners, but it still smelled vaguely of weed, and probably always would. 

“So,” Evan started slowly, not sure if the radio playing softly meant he shouldn’t speak, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Connor said giddily, almost jumping out of his seat. 

“Of course it is.” Evan rolled his eyes.

The drive wasn’t long, just to the edge of the city, to a big patch of dirt with a rusting sign painted with three apples. Connor parked in an overgrown section that Evan wasn’t entirely sure counted as a parking lot. Connor hopped out and led Evan to a chain link fence that must’ve been a good 20 feet tall. On the other side of the fence there was an even taller tree, with a sturdy trunk and thin limbs. It was just the kind of tree Evan would like to climb—if it wasn’t on the opposite side of a chain link fence with a “no trespassing sign” hanging off of it.

“Connor. Where are we?”

“It’s an apple orchard. I think it’s been closed for years.” Connor seemed happy with himself.

“An apple orchard?” Evan didn’t understand.

Connor’s smile faltered. “I, uh, trees.” 

Evan nodded slowly, “But…The fence.” 

Connor’s eyes lit up. “That’s the best part. We get to hop the fence.”

“Connor, that’s trespassing.” Evan felt the familiar tendrils of anxiety creeping up from his gut, into chest.

“Only if you get caught.” Connor flashed a devilish smile. “And do you see anyone else around?”

Evan glanced side to side. “Well, no, but—”

“But nothing.” Connor took a step toward the fence, put his hands through the links and started to climb.

“Connor, don’t,” Evan tried, but Connor had already pulled himself a foot off the ground, and didn’t show signs of stopping.

“It’ll be fine, Hansen.” Connor used his long legs to push himself up. He may not have been built for climbing trees, but he sure knew how to climb a fence.

“Connor, this is illegal! I’m not doing it!” Evan crossed his arms over his chest,

Connor just kept climbing. He was about halfway up now. Evan tried not to watch him, not to give Connor the satisfaction of knowing that Evan was even a little bit impressed. Connor stopped just a few feet from the top and Evan could see his shoulders heave.

“Connor, are you okay?” Evan called up, suddenly aware of Connor’s fear of heights.

“I’m fine, Hansen!” Connor called back down, but there was agitation in his voice. He pulled himself up a little further.

“You’re afraid of heights,” Evan reminded him gently. “You can come back down now. It’s okay.” 

“I said ‘I’m fine’” Connor snapped. He seemed suddenly revitalized then, scrambling the rest of the way up the fence. He balanced himself precariously on the top of the fence. “Ha, see? You were worried for nothing.”

“You’re still breaking the law,” Evan huffed. 

“C’mon, Hansen, don’t be such a goody-goody. Live a little!”

“There is nothing, and I mean nothing, that will get me to hop that fence,” Evan said as forcefully as he could muster.

Connor shrugged. “Fine.” He scanned the branches above his head, looking for one that could support his weight. Evan pinpointed at least five easily within reach. Connor seemed unsure. He was probably remembering his fear of heights again and would scramble back down as soon as possible. There was no way that he was serious about climbing down the tree in the orchard.

And then Connor grabbed a branch and pulled himself up.

“Connor…” Evan trailed off. Connor moved slowly, clearly unsure of how to actually get down. He inched closer to the trunk of three, Evan’s stomach did flip flops of sympathetic anxiety.

That’s when the branch started to bend. _Oh. Oh no._

“Connor! Hurry up! Get down!” Evan called up. 

Connor leaned forward. “What?!” His movement caused the branch to shake and twitch, and bend even more.

“Stop moving! Get down now!” Evan yelled. Connor seemed to hear that time, as his eyes widened and he froze in place. He was paralyzed with fear, Evan realized, as the branch bent more and more under his weight.

_Oh God, I can’t watch._ Evan turned away and covered his eyes just as the branch broke with a sickening snap.

Connor let out a high-pitched scream as he fell. Evan didn’t look back until he heard Connor hit the ground with a thud.

“Connor?” Evan asked quietly, slowly turning back around. Connor was sprawled out on the dirt. “Oh my God, Connor!” Evan grasped the fence. “Are you okay? Connor?!” A thread of fear shot through Evan.

Connor wasn’t moving.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "He's come to get me, and everything's okay..."

Evan froze. “Connor?!” he yelled again, grasping the fence tightly. Connor didn’t respond. _No. No. This can’t be happening._ Evan pulled himself up the chain link fence. He had to get to Connor. His heart pounded as he scrambled up the fence. _He has to be okay._ Evan didn’t know what he’d do if Connor wasn’t okay. Connor was his best friend. He needed Connor. He _loved_ Connor.

The realization hit Evan like a ton of bricks as he threw his leg over the top of the fence. _I love Connor. I’m **in** **love** with Connor. _

It was stupid, really, how long it took him to see it. All those late night talks, all those times he caught himself staring for no reason, the warmth that started in his chest and radiated throughout his whole body when he was with Connor, the way Connor always seemed to know exactly how to calm him down…Of _course_ it was love. It had been love the whole time. Evan’s hands trembled on the fence. He couldn’t lose Connor. Not now, not ever.

His pant leg tore as he climbed the rest of the way over the top of the fence, but he kept going. His mind was going a million miles an hour. _Connor. Connor. Connor._ All that mattered was getting to Connor. Evan hurried to the ground, where Connor still lay, immobile. Evan tried to keep himself from imagining the worst. Connor hadn’t fallen that far. He’d be okay.

Evan hit the ground running. “Connor?!” He called for what felt like the hundredth time, as he ran towards Connor. “Oh, God, Connor,” Evan felt dizzy as he knelt beside Connor. Connor groaned in response, and Evan was flooded with relief. Connor was alive; Connor was conscious. 

“Connor, are you okay?” 

Connor coughed, and tried to move. “Y-Yeah.” Connor slowly pulled himself to sitting, his breath still strained.

“Why didn’t you answer me before?” Evan crossed his arms.

“I couldn’t…” Connor took a breath. “The fall knocked the wind out of me.”

“Oh.” Evan nodded, softening. “Are you…Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay—” 

Evan didn’t wait for Connor to finish before he lunged himself at Connor, wrapping his arms around the boy he loved and holding on as though Connor would float away the moment he let go.

Connor winced and pulled back. “I’m okay, except for my arm.”

“I’m so sorry.” Evan immediately reeled back, suddenly noticing the way Connor had cradled his left arm against his torso. 

“I think it’s broken.” Connor tried to move it, and took a sharp breath, scrunching up his face in pain. 

“Oh my God.” Evan paled. “We have to get you to the hospital.” Evan stood up and offered a hand to Connor.

Connor took Evan’s hand and stood slowly. “How are we going to get there? I can’t drive without my left arm.” 

“I’ll drive.” Evan shrugged and started walking toward the fence.

Connor didn’t move. “You can drive?”

“Yeah,” Evan didn’t turn around. “I have my license. Driving makes me anxious, though, so I generally try to avoid it.” Evan stopped short of the fence. “Uh. How are you supposed to get all the way up and over the fence?” Evan wondered if he could drive Connor’s car through the fence, like they do in the movies.

Connor looked down at his boots. “There’s uh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “There’s a gate…” Connor pointed with his good arm. “Over there.”

“There’s a _what?!”_ Evan shrieked in disbelief.

“A gate?”

“You mean to tell me that you fell out of a fucking tree and broke your arm, and you could’ve just as easily broken the law by walking through a gate?” Evan knew he was overreacting a little, but he had been so worried about Connor, and rightly so, because Connor was hurt.

Connor nodded sheepishly.

“You’re an idiot.” Evan sighed. He let Connor lead him to the other end of the fence, where the gate was. They were just coming to the gate when Evan remember his pants. He glanced down at his right pant leg, which was completely torn. “Y’know, I destroyed my pants coming to get you. You owe me a new pair of khakis.”

Connor groaned. “Isn’t the broken arm punishment enough? I get it. This was stupid, and reckless. ‘Stupid and Reckless’ should be my middle name by now." 

Evan rolled his eyes. “Moron,” he mumbled. _God, I’m so screwed. I can’t believe I’m in love with this idiot. Maybe_ I’m _the idiot._  

They walked in silence to Connor’s car. Evan opened the door for Connor, and Connor dug his keys out of his pocket with his good hand. “Here,” he said with a smile, “Don’t hurt her.”

“She’s a car, Connor.”

“A car who was pretty much my best friend in high school.” Connor slid into the passenger seat, and Evan helped him buckle his seat belt. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Evan laughed, closing the door on Connor. 

Evan jogged around the back of the car and got into the driver seat. He hated driving. Cars were basically giant metal death machines and driving put Evan in charge of them, but at least Connor’s car was an automatic. Heidi drove a stick. He gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles.

“Do you know there you’re going?” Connor asked after a few minutes.

“Um…” Evan hadn’t thought about that.

Connor laughed gently. “I’ll search for the nearest open urgent care on my phone.” 

Evan smiled and pushed the key into the ignition. “Thanks,” he said, as a the engine roared to life. 

“I should be thanking you,” Connor returned Evan’s smile, as his phone began announcing the directions.

Evan shrugged, feeling a blush creep across his cheeks.

“I can’t believe you hopped a fence and tore your pants just to get to me,” Connor laughed, and batted his eye lashes. “You must’ve been really worried about little ol’ me, huh, Hansen?” 

Evan’s stomach did a flip flop, but he just rolled his eyes. “I climb trees, not fences.” 

“And you said nothing could get you to hop that fence,” Connor put his good hand over his heart, dramatically. “My hero.”

“Oh, shut up.” Evan looked back at the road, wondering just how far away the right turn he was supposed to take in five hundred feet was.

“Seriously, though,” Connor reached awkwardly across the console to put his uninjured hand on Evan’s shoulder and squeeze it gently. “Thanks.”

Evan tried to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat and his face flushed at Connor’s warm touch. “Don’t mention it.”

 


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan sits in the waiting room while Connor gets patched up. Also, I changed my username. (My name was never Anne, that was a pen name. You can call me Connor)

The waiting room was frigid, even with Evan’s sweatshirt zipped all the way up. He hoped that Connor wouldn’t be much longer. They’d already had to wait an hour before the doctor would see Connor—which at least gave Connor time to call Zoe, and then when Zoe said she couldn’t drive him home, because the next day was a school day for her, call his mom—but Evan wasn’t sure he could stay in the waiting room much longer without catching hypothermia.

What he needed was a distraction, but the second he let his mind wander, he always went back to Connor…And his feelings…for Connor. _Oh, God_. Evan hung his head in his hands. _This can not be happening._ His head was swimming. Connor was his friend. There was no way Connor could ever see him as anything but a good friend. Evan’s stomach dropped at that thought. _I’m so screwed._

Evan sighed, and pulled out his phone. He knew Jared would be a smug bastard about everything, but who else was he going to talk to about his feelings?

“Hey, Ev—” 

“Help me.” Evan said, panic creeping into his voice.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Jared seemed overly concerned and Evan realized that maybe he sounded more freaked out than he thought. 

“No, sorry, I’m okay. I’m just freaking out.”

“Just take a breath,” Jared instructed. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

Evan did as he was told, and spoke again. “Thanks.” 

“Of course,” Jared said, his voice light, “Now, tell me what happened.”

“Right,” Evan grimaced. “Connor and I went to this orchard tonight. I don’t, um, I don’t know much about it, he just sort of told me he wanted to take me somewhere and so I went. We were totally trespassing, though, and he hopped this fence and climbed a tree, which was so stupid of him because he’s afraid of heights!” Evan took a breath before he continued. 

“Did…Something happen?”

“He fell out of the tree,” Evan sighed. “He broke his arm.” 

“Oh, damn.” 

“It’s okay, we’re at the hospital. He’s getting X-Rays and stuff.”

“So...Why are you calling me?”

“I…” Evan took a deep breath. “I was so scared when he fell, Jared. It was like everything just stopped. He-He was on the ground and he wasn’t moving, and I didn’t know what to do. And I realized. I’minlovewithhim.” Evan mumbled the last sentence. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

“I think I’m in love with him.” Evan said again, slower. 

There was a pause, and then Evan heard Jared laugh, “Well, it’s about damn time.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you were right, you told me so, I get it,” Evan rolled his eyes. 

“I did,” Jared laughed again, “I did tell you so.” 

“Will you please just help me?” Evan groaned. “What do I do?”

“Uh, you tell him?” Jared responded lightly. “And then you make-out with him. And then you let me tell the story of how he fell out of a tree and broke his arm trying to impress you at your wedding.”

“But he doesn’t,” Evan stuttered, “I mean, I don’t think, at least, that he, y’know, likes me like that.”

“Evan. Evan. Where have you been for the past nine months? This guy has been falling all over you since September.” Jared sounded incredulous.

“How would you know? You’ve never even met him.” Evan didn’t know why he felt so defensive about that. It just seemed insane to think that Connor would reciprocate his feelings. 

“I’ve heard you talk about him enough to know,” Jared responded. “Remember the bonsai tree? Or how about the fact that he fell out of tree and broke his arm trying to impress you tonight?”

“I…I mean…” Evan frowned. “But I’m just, I don’t, why would he like me?”

“Why not?”

 Because I’m awkward and weird and all I talk about is trees,” Evan groaned, “And I still have a baby face, Jared. I’m the Pillsbury doughboy from the neck up and you know it. And he’s all ‘piercing blue eyes’ and ‘cheekbones that could cut glass.’ I don't stand a chance.” 

“You need to take a breath.” Jared said calmly. “You realize that everything about you radiates adorable, right?”

“He’s out of my league.”

“He’s terrified of heights, carries a sketchbook around, and has the same sense of style as a scene kid from 2007,” Jared deadpanned. “But okay.”

“I just…” Evan sighed. “What’s the point of telling him? He’ll just reject me and then things between us will be weird and uncomfortable.”

“That’s assuming that he rejects you.” 

Evan rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah." 

“If you weren’t going to listen to me, why did you call?”

“I don’t know,” Evan shrugged. “I just…needed to talk, you know? Too many thoughts in my brain.”

Jared sighed. He couldn’t really argue with that. “Just…ask him out? Please? I can’t listen to you pine for the entire summer.” 

“Maybe. If I get the chance before his mom gets here...” But Evan’s heart pounded at the mere thought of it.

“Shoot, I gotta go. Let me know how it goes.”

“Bye, Jared.” Evan shoved his phone back in his pocket and leaned back in his chair. Maybe Jared was right. Maybe he could ask Connor out. Maybe Connor would be cool about it, and they could stay friends. Or…Maybe Connor would say yes? Evan shook his head. _Fat chance._

Evan sat for another twenty minutes alone, and then a distraught looking middle aged woman with overly styled brown hair and a designer handbag walked in. Immediately Evan knew it must be Cynthia, Connor’s mom. “C-C-C-Cynthia?” Evan called out, slowly pulling himself to standing.

“Oh, are you Evan?” Cynthia asked.

“Y-Y-Yeah,” Evan mumbled. “C-C-C-Connor is still getting patched up.”

“Thank you for driving him here, and waiting,” Cynthia said, taking Evan’s hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad he has someone.” 

“Oh…” Evan hesitated. “I’m just…Connor’s a good friend.”

Cynthia nodded, and sat down, gesturing for Evan to do the same. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes before Connor came out from the back with his arm in a cast.

“Hey, Mom,” he said quietly. 

“Oh, Connor,” Cynthia shook her head disapprovingly. “What happened?” 

“I told you, I fell out of a tree,” Connor didn’t make eye contact. 

“You weren’t…high were you?” Cynthia asked. Connor tensed. Evan felt his stomach roll. She really didn’t have to ask that right off that bat.

“No, Mom,” Connor scowled. “I’ve been clean since November.” 

Cynthia’s eyes widened. “Oh, Honey, that’s wonderful. I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Connor mumbled. Evan wanted to say something to break the tension, but he didn’t know what he _could_ say.

“Hey,” Evan squeaked out. “Uh. Can I sign your cast?” 

Connor smiled. “Yeah, sure. Got a sharpie?” 

“Oh…” Evan frowned. He did not have a sharpie. In his defense, he really wasn’t expecting his last night on campus to go like this.

“I think I might have one!” Cynthia brightened. She dug through her bag for a few seconds before producing a pen. Evan took it gratefully and started scribbling a note long enough to take up most of Connor’s forearm. Cynthia continued to speak as Evan wrote. “So, your father is here, or maybe he left already. He said he’d drive your car back home. I can take you to school, oh, and you, too, Evan, and we can get your things, and then drive home. How does that sound?" 

“Mom, it’s late. Can’t we spend the night at school and drive home in the morning?”

“Where would I sleep?”

“There’s a common room down the hall from us, it has a couch,” Connor shrugged.

Evan looked up from his note, “I have some blankets you can use.”

Cynthia sighed. “Fine, I’ll stay the night. It is pretty late.”

Evan finished the note and handed the pen back to Cynthia. Connor read it eagerly, and Evan felt himself blushing. Connor smiled wider and wider as he read, and Evan’s heart felt like it was in training for the tumbling portion of Olympic gymnastics.

 

_Dear Connor,_

_I’m sorry you got hurt climbing that tree, but I did have a nice time before that, so the night wasn’t a total bust. I hope you heal up fast. That was weird, wasn’t it? Sorry. I guess I should’ve just signed my name, but I wanted to you to know that I’m really glad you’re okay. I really care about you._

_Love, Evan_

 


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Cynthia start to heal.

Bright, early morning light streamed in through Connor’s window. He felt almost hungover, he was so tired, and the light was so bright. He took a sip of the coffee his mom had bought him on their way back home, glad he wasn’t driving himself. They’d been driving for an hour, and they had two more hours to go. They hadn’t said much. Cynthia had tried, at first, but Connor has just slipped in his earbuds and tuned her out. She seemed sad when he did that, but he ignored her. _What would we even talk about anyway?_ Besides, she seemed just as content as Connor’s dad to lie to him about his diagnosis, so why should he care about her?

_Because she’s your mother_ , he told himself. _Because you love her. Because deep down you know you want things to just be okay._ He bit his lip and glanced at her. She was focused on the road, and she seemed…defeated. He sighed, pulled out his earbuds, and shoved them in his pocket. 

“Alright,” he said quietly. “Let’s talk.”

“Really?” She asked, glancing away from the road for a split second to study his face, probably to see if he was screwing with her.

“Yeah,” Connor nodded. “It’s been awhile. And I know we usually fight, but I thought that maybe since Dad isn’t here…” Connor trailed off. 

Cynthia nodded. “Your father he means well, but—”

“You don’t have to defend him to me,” Connor crossed his arms. “It doesn’t matter. I know he’s your husband. You love him. But I can’t, okay? Not after everything he’s put me through.” 

Cynthia didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and when she finally spoke it was barely audible. “I don’t.” 

“What?” 

“Love him, I mean. I don’t.” She almost sounded relieved to finally be able to admit it.

“Mom, I…” Connor trailed off. What was he supposed to say to that?

“It’s okay,” Cynthia smiled weakly. “You don’t have to say anything. I just realized at some point that he’s done more harm to this family, to you and Zoe, than good. And you have to know, Connor, you and your sister are the most important things in the world to me.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Connor uncrossed his arms. “I know, that, I do. I know that you love me.” Connor shook his head. “But you made me feel so broken.”

“Oh, Connor,” Cynthia shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

Connor didn’t say anything. He wanted more from her.

“I just wanted to help you, but your father. He didn’t understand-- I know I don’t need to tell you that. I should’ve stood up to him more.” Her face was full of regrets, and Connor let himself reach out and squeeze her arm. 

“I…” Connor swallowed. “Why didn’t you tell me that I had bipolar disorder?”

Cynthia’s eyes widened. “You know?”

“Doctor Marshall told me. I’m on medication now, and I’ve been talking to her on the phone every week. I’m really trying, Mom.” Connor gave his mother a weak smile. 

“I’m proud of you, Connor,” and he could tell from her tone that she really was. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wanted to, but your father, he was so adamant that Doctor Marshall was wrong, and at the time I didn’t have a separate bank account—”

“You have a separate bank account now?” Last Connor had heard, Larry was in charge of all of the family’s finances, besides the account Connor had made for himself junior year of high school. He felt a small surge of pride that his mom was really and truly starting to stand up for herself.

“Yeah, since just before Christmas. He thought it was holiday spending, but really I was transferring funds little by little,” Cynthia shot Connor a mischievous wink.

“And I thought I was the family rebel,” Connor smirked. It was almost starting to feel normal to talk to his mom. 

“What? Did you think you got your rebellious streak from your father?” Cynthia smiled broadly and rolled her eyes. “Please.” 

“I’m impressed,” Connor raised an eyebrow appraisingly. “Anyways, continue.”

“Well, like I said, Larry was in charge of the money. I couldn’t exactly get you therapy and medication in secret,” Cynthia sighed and shook her head. “And I thought telling you, and not being able to get you the help you needed, would’ve been worse than not telling you. I had no idea you felt that way.” She seemed almost at the brink of tears, and Connor couldn’t stand it any longer. 

“I forgive you, Mom.” It felt good to say it. “I forgive you.”

“Really?”

Connor shrugged. “Yeah. I…I miss you. I miss how close we used to be.” Connor shifted in his seat to look out the window. He hated how vulnerable he felt. He’d never liked being vulnerable in front of his parents.

“Oh, Connor, I miss you, too.” She took one hand off the wheel to wipe a few tears from the corner of her eye. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Mom.” Connor couldn’t even remember the last time he’d told either of his parents that he loved them. It felt weird and unnatural, but it also…felt good. Connor felt lighter than he had in years. He turned back to look at her. “Can we pull over really quick?” 

Cynthia nodded and merged quickly to take the exit they were about to pass, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Connor ran his good hand through his hair. “I just, uh. I want to give you hug, is all.”

The worry in Cynthia’s face faded into affection, and she smiled. “Of course.” She pulled into the first gas station off of the exit. They didn’t need gas, so she just parked in one of the spaces off to the side of the convenience store. She didn’t cut the engine, she just put the car in park and hopped out. She opened Connor’s door for him and unbuckled his seatbelt. He slid out quickly and wrapped his good arm around her. She held him with both arms, careful of his cast

Connor leaned into the embrace and closed his eyes. His mom still had the best hugs in the world, bar none. He always felt so safe and protected in her arms, so reassured and calmed, and it had been a long time since he’d gotten that certain feeling that only a hug from his mom could give. He squeezed as tightly as he could with his good arm. “I’m sorry, too, Mom.” 

“Connor…” 

“No,” Connor pulled out of the hug and looked her dead in the eye. “I need to apologize, too, Mom. I’ve said so many awful things to you, and I haven’t been fair to you, and I’m so sorry.”

Cynthia smiled and wiped her eyes again. “I forgive you, Connor.” Cynthia helped Connor back into the car, hoped back in herself, and soon they were back on the road. After a few minutes of silence, Cynthia spoke. “So, can we talk like a normal mother and son, now? Would that be okay?”

Connor shrugged. “What does a normal mother and son talk about?”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” Cynthia drawled. “Maybe that boy who wrote an entire love letter on your cast?”

“Mom!” Connor’s eyes widened. He didn’t expect his mom to immediately lead in with Connor’s gay crush. Larry never would’ve gone there. “It’s not a love letter.”

“But you do like him,” Cynthia said pointedly.

“Oh my God, Mom,” Connor groaned, trying not to blush, “Please stop.”

“C’mon, Honey, I’m old, I’m not blind,” Cynthia grinned.

“Okay, fine. I do like him,” Connor admitted, his face burning hot.

“You like him a lot,” Cynthia said knowingly. “You did break your arm trying to impress him, after all.” 

“Is that pathetic?” Connor asked. 

“That depends. Do you think he likes you back?” 

“I…” Connor looked down at the note on his cast. He still had no idea what it meant.

 

“ _I’m really glad you’re okay. I really care about you. **Love,** Evan.” _

 

Connor traced the word “love” with his index finger. Rationally, he knew that Evan meant it platonically. Evan loved him like a best friend. That’s all. And that was more than enough for Connor. But something in the back of his mind felt hopeful. _Love_. 

“I don’t know, Mom,” he shrugged. “Maybe. Probably not.”

“You know, I was in love when I was your age.” 

Connor scowled. “Really, Mom? A ‘back when I was a kid’ story?”

“Oh, hush.” 

“Fine, fine. You were in love? With Dad?”

Cynthia snorted. “No, no. His name was Joseph and he was the kindest, sweetest boy that I knew. We were good friends, too. But I was too scared to tell him how I felt, and he started dating this girl, Penelope, and I lost my chance.”

“But how do you even know you had a chance?” Connor asked. “I mean, you could’ve told him and totally ruined your friendship.” 

“That’s true,” Cynthia nodded. “But I’ve spent the past twenty or so years wondering what would’ve happened if I’d told him how I felt. There’s nothing worse than wondering ‘what if,’ Connor.” 

“I guess,” Connor looked down at his cast again. _Love._ “I just don’t want to lose him.”


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Evan play some vidya games.

“Shoot them! Shoot them!” Jared screamed as a zombie hoard closed in on them. 

“I’m trying, I’m trying,” Evan yelled back. He fired his weapon as many times as he could, but the zombies kept coming. Eventually the two of them were completely overwhelmed by the undead.

The screen went black, and the words ‘GAME OVER’ flashed in red. 

“Damn it, Evan,” Jared snapped, throwing down his controller. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m sorry,” Evan sighed, setting down his control on the carpet. “It’s been awhile, I guess I’m a little rusty.”

Jared scoffed. “We’ve been trying to beat this level for hours, dumbass. You should’ve gotten over your ‘rustiness’ by now.” 

Evan shrugged. “It’s just a stupid game, Jared.”

“Just a…” Jared curled his fist, “It’s a _Zombie Slayer_ game, Evan.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “That really doesn’t make it sound anymore important, Jared. Some of us have more on our minds than video games.”

Jared took a deep breath and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Can we just try the level again?”

Evan shook his head and stood up. “Nah. I should probably go home. My mom said she’d get off early today and we’d actually have dinner together.”

Jared looked at his watch. “It’s three in the afternoon, dude.”

“S-S-She’s getting off really early.”   

“You know that I can tell when you’re lying, right?” Jared raised an eyebrow, finally following Evan to standing. “Why are you being so weird?”

“It’s nothing.” 

“Tell me.”

“I…” Evan blushed, “I was gonna go home and call Connor.”

Jared let out a loud guffaw. “So, you’ve been distracted daydreaming about Connor this whole time? Seriously? I think I liked it better when you didn’t know that you were in love with him." 

“Shut up, Jared!” Evan lowered his head into his hands. 

“Hey, I just call them like I see them,” Jared put his hands up, “And apparently you can’t go five minutes without thinking of your Emo Prince Charming.” 

Evan sighed. “I’m pathetic, aren’t I?”

“It’s only pathetic if he doesn’t like you back,” Jared said firmly. “And we have no proof that he doesn’t like you back.”

“Oh, not this again,” Evan groaned. 

“Hey, you’re the one who didn’t ask him out that night.”

“His mom was there! What was I supposed to do?” Besides, Evan didn’t have the guts to do anything more than write a note on Connor’s cast—a note which Connor had yet to acknowledge, despite them being three weeks into summer vacation.

“You could’ve pulled him aside,” Jared shrugged. 

“What would his mom have thought?” Evan shook his head. “And I didn’t totally chicken out, for the record.” _Shit._ He hadn’t planned on telling Jared about the note, but Jared was being _so_ annoying. It just slipped out.

“You didn’t?” Jared seemed intrigued.

“No,” Evan shook his head, resigned. “I wrote a note on his cast. I didn’t, like, tell him about my feelings, but I just…I told him that I care about him a lot…” Evan trailed off. He didn’t want to admit how he’d signed the note. 

“And?”

“And n-n-n-nothing. That’s it.” Evan lowered his gaze to the floor. 

“Bullshit, Hansen.” 

“Isigneditwithlove,” Evan mumbled, not looking it up.

“What?” Jared cocked his head to the side.

“Alright,” Evan sighed and brought his gaze back up to meet Jared’s eyes. “I sighed the note ‘Love, Evan.’” 

“Oh my God,” Jared laughed again.

“But he hasn’t said anything about it, Jared! And it’s been almost a month! What am I supposed to think about that?” Evan sighed and lowered himself onto Jared’s bed.

“Maybe he doesn’t know what it means?” Jared put a hand on his hip. “Ever think of that?”

Evan shrugged.

“Jesus, Evan, this isn’t some shitty period drama you watched with your mom. You can’t write some cryptic ass note and expect Mr. Darcy to come running.” Jared threw himself down into his computer chair with an exasperated sigh.

“I know,” Evan mumbled.

“You have to communicate with him,” Jared said forcefully. “Actually communicate.”

“I know,” Evan repeated. He did know. Jared was right. Evan had to actually tell Connor how he felt. But he didn’t want to. He was too stupidly scared. And not just of ruining their friendship, but of what would happen on the off chance that Connor liked him back. Would they date? What would that be like? Would it be like dating Caitlyn, which is to say, no different from being friends aside from holding hands sometimes? Evan hoped not. He hoped that he’d get to kiss Connor. He hoped he’d get to run his fingers through Connor’s hair and pull him close and—

“Evan?” Jared was somehow standing over Evan, snapping his fingers. 

“Sorry.” 

“Where’d you go, buddy?” Jared chuckled.

Evan turned bright red. “Just…Spacing out.”

“You’re blushing. I’m not stupid.” Jared rolled his eyes. “You were thinking about him, weren’t you? Oh my God, were you thinking about, y’know, _doing it?_ ”

“Doing it? What are we, twelve?” Evan crossed his arms. “And, no. I wasn’t thinking about _that_. I was just…”

“Just what? Thinking about his pretty eyes? His long, flowing locks?” Jared smirked.

“Jared!” 

“You were!” Jared cackled. “God, you are so whipped!”

“I am not!” Evan huffed.

“Yes, you are.”

“Look, Jared, if you’re not gonna take this seriously, then I’m going home and I’m gonna call Connor.” Evan pushed himself off of Jared’s bed and took a few steps towards the door.

“Fine,” Jared threw his arms up in defeat. “Here’s my advice. Tell him how you feel, be honest and genuine, and let him know that the most important thing is his friendship. After that, it’s up to him.” 

“You’re surprisingly insightful about this,” Evan smirked. “I guess Patrick has really made you a relationship expert, huh?”

“Can it,” Jared rolled his eyes.

“Oh, what you can make fun of me for Connor, but I can’t tease you for finally admitting that Patrick is your boyfriend?” Evan crossed his arms again. 

“You should be doing the opposite of teasing me,” Jared shook his head. “I actually got my shit together, for once.”

Evan snorted. “I know. It’s damn miracle.”

“Asshole.”

“You deserved it.”

Jared sighed. “Fine, fine.”

“So, you really think I should tell Connor that I love him?” Evan asked quietly.

“Yes,” Jared said emphatically. “Of course.”

Evan took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay, fine. You’re right.”

“Thank you, God!” Jared grinned.

“But I’m gonna wait until I can do it person, when school starts again.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Jared shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “Really? So I’m gonna have to watch you mope around all summer pining?” He looked up to meet Evan’s eyes. 

“I just,” Evan sighed. “I just feel more comfortable doing it in person. I don’t want anything to get misconstrued, you know?”

Jared nodded. “Alright, that’s fair.”

Evan smiled.

“But if you’re gonna wait all summer to tell him how you feel, will at you least kill some zombies with me while you wait?” Jared got up off the bed, headed over toward the television, and picked up one of the controllers.

Evan sighed and joined Jared near the TV. “Alright, but you’re taking the lead this time, and we’re getting through this damn level.”

“And he’s back!” Jared grinned handing the controller to Evan, and picking up the other one. They sat down in front on the screen and Jared selected the ‘continue game’ item from the menu that had been flashing on screen since they died.

Evan grinned. “Let’s kick some zombie ass.”


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Fourth of July. 
> 
> I am so, so sorry this is late. The holidays are a busy time for me, and I've been doing a lot this week and it totally slipped my mind.

Long, evening shadows filled the Kleinmans’ backyard as the sun dropped below the horizon. Evan nibbled on an all-beef kosher hotdog that Aaron Kleinman had served him from the grill a few minutes before. Jared’s family had this barbeque every year on the 4th of July. It was nice. There was iced tea and red, white, and blue cupcakes, and they always bought way too much food, so Evan always got to take home some leftovers. Evan wasn’t great at parties, but most of the people there were people he’d grown up around—most of the Kleinmans’ family friends were also his and Heidi’s family friends—so it didn’t feel like a party. 

“You’ve been gnawing on that hotdog for almost twenty minutes, dude,” Jared said, walking up to Evan, dripping from the water balloon fight he’d had with one of his cousins. “Enough foreplay, just deep throat it already.”

“Jared!” Evan blushed scarlet. “What if your parents heard you say that?”

“So what?” Jared shook his head vigorously, like a wet dog, sending sprays of cold water in every direction.

“Jared!” Evan groaned. “You’re getting me wet!”

Jared’s eyes lit up mischievously at that. 

Evan narrowed his eyes. “Oh, no. Don’t you dare.”

“That’s what she said!” Jared shouted, grinning devilishly. At that moment a boy who was almost a head taller than Jared, with reddish brown hair and cheeks peppered with freckles, came over and slung an arm around Jared.

“Is my boyfriend giving you a hard time?” Patrick asked with a grin. Jared’s face flushed.

Evan chuckled. “Yeah, but what else is new?” Evan had decided he liked Patrick almost immediately after meeting him, when he’d somehow managed to beat Jared at his own game with a single one-liner. Anyone who can handle Jared, and do it with a smile, deserved Evan’s respect. Also, he seemed to make Jared happy. That was important, too. Of course.

“Betrayed,” Jared put the back of his hand to his forehead and swayed side to side melodramatically. “Betrayed by mine own lover, and that treacherous thing I once considered my friend. How can I continue on this way?”

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Kleinman.”

Jared stood up straighter. “Make me.” 

Patrick started to lean down, apparently to shut Jared up, when Jared’s dad came over to them. Aaron Kleinman was wearing khakis, a salmon polo shirt, and a novelty apron that said “GRILL MASTER” in big, tacky lettering across the chest.

“You kids having fun?” Mr. Kleinman asked with a smile.

Patrick straightened up immediately. “Yes, sir. Thanks again for having me.”

“Thanks for making the drive down to see us, kid.” Mr. Kleinman was smiling. He turned from Patrick to Evan. “And it’s always good to see you, Evan.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Mr. Kleinman,” Evan returned Mr. Kleinman’s easy smile, and lifted the hotdog off his plate. “Great hotdog!” Evan liked Mr. Kleinman. He was really the closest thing to a “healthy father figure” that Evan had. And he almost always embarrassed Jared, no matter the situation.

“They don’t call me the Grill Master for nothing,” Mr. Kleinman chuckled.

“Dad, no one calls you the ‘Grill Master,’” Jared rolled his eyes. “Just leave us alone and go back to cooking the Jewish hotdogs.” 

“Alright, alright,” Mr. Kleinman sighed and put his hands up. “I know when I’m not wanted.” He headed back over to the barbeque and tended to his dogs.

Jared breathed a sigh of relief. “So, you staying for the fireworks, Tree Boy?” Every year the Kleinmans put on a fireworks show, right in their backyard. Some years Evan stayed and watched, and it was always beautiful, but he always ended up getting overstimulated and anxious after a certain point. There was just too much noise on the Fourth of July. The sun was going down, so the fireworks would be starting soon. 

“I don’t think so,” Evan picked at an ingrown hair on his arm. “I’m kinda tired, and I promised my mom that I’d clean my room, so I should probably be heading home.”

“Lame,” Jared shook his head. “Who cleans their room on the Fourth of July?”

“I do.” Evan said, feeling rather cross. “It was nice to meet you, Patrick.” 

Patrick gave Evan a polite smile. “You too, Evan.”

“See you guys later.” Evan turned and headed into the house. 

“Have fun talking to Connor!” Jared called as Evan walked away. Evan didn’t respond. He didn’t want to give Jared the satisfaction of knowing that he was getting to Evan, or that he was right. Evan did plan on probably calling Connor later. He called Connor pretty much every day, or sometimes Connor called him, and when that happened he dropped everything to talk to Connor. The truth was he missed Connor a lot more than he had anticipated. He hated that Jared could tell how much he wanted to see Connor. Maybe lying was morally questionable, but to be fair, he did intend on cleaning his room, that wasn’t a lie. 

He made his way through the Kleinmans’ house slowly, stopping to say goodbye to a few people, and assure them that he would say ‘hi’ to his mom for them, before he left. He lived about a twenty minute walk from Jared’s house, but it was mostly uphill, and he found himself wishing for a ride home. He listened to music as he walked, but it still felt miserable. It was _so_ hot, even with the sun going down. Evan loved the summer heat, loved being able to feel the warm breeze on his bare arms, but he was out of breath and sticky with sweat and it just wasn’t comfortable.

He collapsed onto the couch as soon as he got home, never more grateful for modern technology—air conditioning. Blessed air conditioning. He sat for a few minutes, catching his breath and cooling down. Eventually, he gathered himself up and dragged himself into his room. He played some music and started cleaning. It wasn’t that messy, really, but it needed a good dusting, and he wanted to mop and wax his hardwood floor. Sure, maybe it was overkill, but Evan needed something to distract him from the unexpected bangs and pops he’d be hearing all night. He cleaned for maybe two hours before there was nothing left to do.

He flopped down onto his bed with a sigh. _Maybe if I just keep listening to music, I’ll survive._ That lasted about fifteen minutes before he was jumping at every sound, as per usual. He opened his contacts and pulled up Connor’s number. And then he stopped. _Connor is probably busy. He’s probably doing something his mom and Zoe. I shouldn’t bother him. I should just deal with it myself._

A bottle rocket went off around the corner and Evan’s heart rate skyrocketed. 

_Damn it_ , he thought, before giving in and calling Connor. Connor answered on the second ring. “Hello?” Connor sounded out of breath and Evan could hear a firework go off in the background. 

“Sorry, is this a bad time?” Evan said quietly. “I can call back.” 

“Hansen!—Zoe, shut the fuck up—Hey, what’s up?” Connor asked, attempting to catch his breath.

“Oh, I just…The noise, you know, it gets to me?” Evan laughed at himself. “I’m kind of like a cat on the Fourth of July.” 

“That sucks.” 

“Yeah.” Evan hesitated. “So what are you up to?” 

“Zoe and I are blowing shit up to piss off my dad. Alana’s here, too.” Connor sounded happy, and Evan couldn’t help but smile. Just hearing Connor’s voice made him feel instantly better, calmer. 

“Sounds fun.”

“Anything that pisses off my dad is a good time.” Connor replied.

“Well, I guess I shouldn’t keep you, then.” Evan wasn’t surprised. He knew that Connor would be busy. It was stupid to call him and waste his time.

“Woah, not so fast. Tell me about your day. You went to Jared’s right?” 

Evan tried to ignore how happy it made him that Connor wanted to hear about it his day. It was such a simple thing, but it meant everything to Evan. It was just nice to be reminded that Connor cared about him.

“Yeah,” Evan smiled. “Yeah, I did.”

“And how was that?” Connor sounded affectionately exasperated, although Evan wasn’t really sure that was even a thing.

“It was good,” Evan leaned back against the headboard of his bed. “Had some nice kosher hot dogs. Got to tell the entire Jewish community of this town about how ‘school is going,’ you know how adults are.” 

Connor chuckled. “I definitely do. What else?” There was something about Connor’s tone that told Evan that Connor was trying to distract him. He liked that he didn’t have to ask Connor explicitly to help him. Connor just…knew what to do somehow. He liked that Connor knew him that well.

“I got to meet Jared’s boyfriend,” Evan offered.

“What’s he like?” Connor asked earnestly.

“He seems nice. He was definitely scared of Jared’s dad, which is so funny to me.” Evan laughed, remembering the flicker of fear he’d seen in Patrick’s eyes whenever Mr. Kleinman had spoken to him. 

“What’s wrong with him, though?” Connor asked. “There has to be something wrong if he’s dating Kleinman, just based off what you’ve told me about him.”

“Jared’s not as bad as I sometimes make him seem,” Evan shook his head. “He’s really like a brother to me.”

“Okay, okay,” Connor backed off. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. I’m just really glad that Jared is happy, you know?” Evan shrugged. “I don’t want to start talking crap about it yet.”

“Would he offer you the same luxury?”

Evan snorted. “Like I’m ever gonna get a boyfriend.”

“You had a girlfriend four months ago.”

“Yeah, but I mean. Not _really_. We were never official. And all we did was hold hands, you know? I think I was just pretending to like her, if that makes sense." 

There was a long pause before Connor spoke again. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

“Sometimes it takes me awhile to figure things out,” Evan said hesitantly. “Especially when it comes to feelings.” 

Connor cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad you figured things out eventually. About Caitlyn, I mean. Obviously.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Evan said softly. 

“Still feeling nervous?” Connor asked abruptly. Evan was feeling nervous, but he guessed he wasn't nervous about what Connor thought he was nervous about. 

“A little bit less, now," he answered quickly, grateful for the subject change.  

“Would it help if I told you that I’m changing my major?” Connor asked. 

“Really? Seriously? But you love art!” 

“Yeah, but I don’t love being told what to do when I make art. It kind of defeats the whole ‘self expression’ aspect of it.”

“Fair,” Evan did think that being told how to do art seemed like no fun. “What are you going to change it to?”

“Psychology,” Evan could hear the grin in Connor’s voice. “I really liked that class I took last semester, and I was thinking I could become a therapist or something and help kids like myself.”

“Connor,” Evan softened. “That’s amazing.” Something about the idea of Connor wanting to help people made Evan’s heart swell.

“I don’t know about that, but—”

_“Connor, stop talking to your boyfriend and help me!”_ Connor was cut off by an unfamiliar girl’s voice coming through the phone. Evan thought it was probably Zoe.

“He’s not my boyfriend! Give me a minute!” Connor yelled back. “Sorry about that. Zoe doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Yeah.” Evan shrugged. 

“I mean, us? A couple?” Connor produced a sound somewhere in between a laugh and a scoff, but it sounded stunted and awkward. He was uncomfortable. _Does the idea of being with me really repulse him that much?_

“I should let you go,” Evan said quietly.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” 

Evan smiled at that, despite himself. “Yeah. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Hansen.”

“Goodnight, Connor.”


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Evan's birthday. (I AM SO SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE)

Evan woke up to the sunlight filtering in through his window and the sound of his mom singing along to the radio in the kitchen. She was cooking him breakfast. He smiled and rolled out of bed. The smell of waffles hit him as soon as he opened his bedroom door. “Mom?” He called out.

“Hey, Birthday Boy! You’re nineteen now! How does it feel?” 

Evan shrugged and sat down at the kitchen table, where a stack of waffles was waiting for him. “The same, I guess.”

Heidi frowned. “That’s not the birthday spirit.”

Evan took a bite of waffle. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Eat up, we have a big day ahead. I have a big surprise for you.” Heidi was grinning ear to ear. Evan couldn’t imagine what she could have planned that would be worth such a big, secretive smile.

“Stop being weird,” Evan shook his head.

“Forgive me for being excited.” Heidi folded her arms across her chest. “But I actually managed to get the whole day off!” 

Evan nodded along, stuffing his face with waffle as quickly as he possibly could. Evan wasn’t a big fan of his birthday. It always felt like a waste of time to spend a whole day focused just on him. Everyone had better things to do. What did it matter that he’d gone around the sun another time? He knew he was hypocritical, because he always tried to go the extra mile for everyone else’s birthday, but for some reason those birthdays always seemed more important than his.

“Evan, honey, slow down.” Heidi said, breaking through Evan’s thoughts.

Evan put his fork down slowly. “Sorry. Really hungry.”

“I just don’t want you to choke, kiddo.” Heidi shook her head fondly.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Heidi’s phone vibrated on the kitchen counter. When she picked it up, her eyes dulled, and she tapped out a short response to whatever text she’d just gotten.

“What’s up?” Evan asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I…” Heidi sighed. Evan knew what was coming before it came. “They need me at work. Patty called in sick. I’m so sorry.”

Evan nodded, pursing his lips. “That’s okay, Mom. I’ll just call Jared or something.” _It’s not like you’re usually around on my birthday, anyway._

“I have a bit before I have to be in, so why don’t I give you your gift now?” Heidi put up a façade of forced brightness. 

“Sure,” Evan nodded half heartedly.

Heidi dashed towards her bedroom, and Evan let his shoulders sag. He hoped that whatever the ‘big surprise’ was, it wasn’t as big as she was making it out to be. He pulled out his phone and checked his messages. He only had one text, from Jared. He tried not to be disappointed that Connor hadn’t texted him—he’d told Connor when his birthday was the day after Connor’s birthday, when Connor had abruptly sat up and asked, “Hey, wait. When’s _your_ birthday?”—but it looked like Connor had forgotten. _Why should he remember my birthday, anyway?_ Evan opened the text from Jared.

 

 **New Message From Jared:** hap birth

 **To Jared:** thanks

 **New Message From Jared:** my parents got u mini golf tickets for today

 **New Message From Jared:** I got u a tree shaped dildo lololol

 

Evan rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. He actually really liked mini-golf, despite how over stimulating it was, because he seemed to have a knack for it—or he was just lucky. (And he was sure that Jared hadn’t _actually_ purchased a dildo.)

 

 **To Jared:** Sounds great!

 **To Jared:** the mini golf, not the dildo

 

Evan slid his phone back in the pocket of his pajama pants just as Heidi returned to the kitchen with two brightly wrapped packages in her hands. One was pristinely wrapped, of course, as Heidi’s presents always were, and the other…Well, it was a little messy. Heidi thrust the first one into his hands, with a wide grin.

“This one’s from me,” she said brightly. “It’s the big surprise." 

Evan tore through the paper, to reveal a brand new tablet. “What?! Mom!”

Heidi beamed. “It’s not technically new-new, it’s refurbished. I couldn’t afford a new-new one, but Patty’s son, Mark is a computer guy, and he says it’s the same thing. It’s just that it’s an older model.”

Evan nodded. He didn’t care. It was still a great gift. “I…Wow. Thank you so much.” He pulled his mother in for a tight hug.

“I figure you can use it for school,” Heidi said warmly. “And some fun, too, of course.”

“Totally,” Evan agreed. 

His eyes fell to the smaller, messily wrapped package. “What’s that?” He asked before he could stop himself.

“Oh,” Heidi pushed the package towards Evan. “It’s also for you.”

Evan raised an eyebrow. “Also from you?”

Heidi shook her head. “It’s from Connor,” she said, throwing Evan a wink. 

Evan’s eyes widened. _He didn’t forget._ He opened the paper a bit more cautiously this time, but the gift was simply a book, with a small note, scribbled on what must have been paper torn from Connor’s sketchpad.

_Happy Birthday, Evan! – Love, Connor_

Evan’s breath caught in his throat— _love?—_ and he couldn’t stop the blush that flooded his cheeks. He looked up with a breathless smile, set the note down on the counter carefully, not wanting to lose it, and examined the book with more care. It was a nice, new, hardcover. The front was a photo of some redwoods.

“ _Nature’s Temples: The Complex World of Old-Growth Forests_ ,” Evan read the title aloud. Connor had gotten him a tree book, to no surprise. He opened it and started flipping through, looking at chapter titles and gorgeous penciled illustrations.

“Connor sent it a couple weeks ago,” Heidi said. “Well, actually, first, he emailed me—clever bastard found my work email on the hospital website—and asked for our mailing address, and _then_ he sent it.”

Evan’s eyes widened again; he couldn’t believe Connor had gone to all that trouble.

“He cares a lot about you, kiddo,” Heidi continued. “I hope you know that.”

“I think I do.” Evan closed the book, the word ‘love’ ringing in his head, and looked up at Heidi, “I should go get ready to see Jared. He’s taking me mini-golfing.”

Heidi nodded. “Fun!” 

Evan picked up his new tablet, and the note and scurried into his room. He dressed quickly, decided that if he didn’t want to shower on his birthday, he didn’t have to, and then pulled out his phone to text Connor.

 

 **To Connor:** Thanks for the book!

 **New Message From Connor:** Happy Birthday!

 **New Message From Connor:** I really hope you like it. I remembered what you said about wanting to see the old growth forests in California.

 

That surprised Evan. He’d assumed that Connor had gone to a Barnes and Nobles or something and grabbed the first tree related book he saw.

 

 **To Connor:** I love it!!

 **New Message From Connor:** I looked at a few different books about old growth forests, but that one’s supposed to be, like, critically acclaimed or whatever.

 **New Message From Connor:** Also I liked the drawings.

 

Something warm bubbled up in Evan’s chest. Connor had clearly put a _lot_ of thought into that gift, into showing Evan that he cared. Evan glanced back at the note. _Love._

 

 **To Connor:** It’s perfect.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR, MY DUDES


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Zoe bonding time! Old episodes of glee!

Connor sat on the living room couch, his back pressed against Zoe’s torso. Her hands combed through his tangled hair absently, but most of her focus was on the TV screen. They were rewatching the second season of glee, like any self-respecting young gays. Zoe had offered to braid his hair, but so far she was just kind of playing with it. Connor didn’t mind, though.

“Ugh,” Zoe groaned. “Shut up, Mr. Schue! No one cares!”

Connor laughed. “Did anyone like him at all? Like ever?”

“Only Pillsbury Doughbitch,” Zoe words came out as more of a laugh than a sentence. "I don't know what the writers were thinking. No one watched this show for the romance between a depressed Spanish teacher and a guidance counselor. No one cared about either of them." 

“Hey, I liked Emma, at least! She tried really hard all the time. Honestly, she deserved better than Will,” Connor insisted.

"You just have a soft-spot for doe-eyed people with anxiety disorders. You don’t count,” Zoe said smugly.

“I do not!” Connor whined.

Zoe leaned over to meet his eye. “Really? What were you saying yesterday about Evan? Something about how cute his freckles are when he blushes?”

Connor sighed. Zoe did have a point. “Shut up,” he said fondly.

It was the middle of August. School was fast approaching, and that meant once again cohabitating with anxious and doe-eyed Evan Hansen. Connor was excited to see Evan again, but summer had been surprisingly good. He and Zoe had spent a lot of time together, and it finally felt like they were friends again. He’d let his mom back in, and it felt so good to be able to just talk to her again. There was still Larry to deal with, but having Zoe and their mom on Connor’s side made even Larry tolerable.

Things were almost quiet. 

And Connor saw his therapist every week, which was definitely helping him. He still didn’t like talking about himself, but he appreciated the outside perspective on things. Doctor Marshall was an objective, clear headed voice, and that was invaluable to Connor. It kept him from letting his emotions cloud his judgment.

Connor got to see his little sister graduate from high school and start preparing for college that summer. She was going to a fancy music school up north, and he couldn’t have been prouder. It made him remember all the times he’d come so close to ending it all in high school, and he was just so glad he was still alive. 

Things were so good that Connor was strangely afraid it would all fall apart when he went back to school. It was irrational, and he knew it was irrational even before he’d talked to Doctor Marshall about it and she’d told him that it was irrational, but the fear still persisted, in the back of his mind.

“Hey, weirdo,” Zoe broke Connor out of his thoughts. “Whatcha thinking about?” 

“Just next semester. I’m scared that all the good stuff that happened this summer will fall apart when I leave for school,” Connor shifted uncomfortably. It still felt strange to be opening up to Zoe.

“Well, I’m not gonna magically start hating you once school starts,” Zoe shrugged. “I don’t know if that helps at all. But I’ve got your back, Big Brother.”

Connor gave Zoe a small smile. “Thanks, Little Sister.”

“Of course.”

Connor’s smile fell almost as quickly as it came. “I just…Things are so good, better than they’ve been in years, and it feels too good to be true, you know? I mean, I have you back. I have Mom back. I’m in therapy and it’s actually helping me this time. I’m scared I’m going to ruin things.”

“Connor, that’s ridiculous. You’ve worked so hard and you’ve come so far,” Zoe shook her head. “You’re not who you were a year ago.”

“I know, I know,” Connor raked a hand through his hair. “I keep telling myself that, but the worry is still there in the back of my brain.”

Zoe separated out Connor’s hair into three sections. “Fishtail braid, okay?” 

“Yeah,” he gave a nod small enough not disturb her work on his hair.

“You just need to give yourself more credit,” Zoe said. “Also, once you get back to school you’ll get to see Evan again. Aren’t you excited about that?”

 “I don’t know, honestly,” Connor bit his lip. He was excited to see Evan, but he was also dreading it. It was easier to ignore his feelings when he didn’t have to see Evan every day. “I’m not looking forward to having to look at his beautiful face everyday and know that he’ll never feel the same.” 

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Zoe scoffed, and accidentally-on-purpose pulled his hair.

“Hey!” 

Zoe giggled. “Sorry, it was an accident.”

“Sure it was,” Connor rolled his eyes.

“Maybe it’s time for you to get over him,” Zoe suggested hesitantly.

“Get over him?” Connor wasn’t sure how he was supposed to go about doing that, especially when he only had to two weeks left before school started.

“I mean, you did break your arm trying to impress him,” she pointed out, “That can’t be healthy, right?”

“I didn’t intentionally break my arm!” 

“Also, you’ve been in love with him for almost a year, and nothing has happened. I think it’s time, dude.” 

“I haven’t been _in love_ with him for a year.” 

“Yeah, but you did like him from the start,” Zoe insisted. “Close enough.”

“I regret telling you that.” Connor crossed his arms. “Let’s say I agree with you. How do I go about ‘getting over’ him, exactly?” 

“You put yourself out there,” Zoe pushed Connor’s head down, to get a better angle on his hair as she got further down the braid. “You date a different boy. Or maybe a few boys. You stop letting yourself revolve around Evan.”

“I don’t revolve around Evan.” 

Zoe snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

“I don’t!”

“You do, Connor,” Zoe insisted. “Just accept it.”

“Okay, maybe a little,” Connor admitted. “But is it so bad that I have a best friend?”

“No, but you’re also in love with him.”

“Yeah,” Connor let out a long breath. “Unfortunate.” 

“Which is why I’m right, and you have to get over him,” Zoe said cheerily. “Now, do you have a hair tie? I finished the braid.”

“Yep.” Connor lifted his hand, so she could reach his wrist, where he had two black hair bands. 

Zoe pulled one off and put it on the braid. “Go look and tell me what you think.” 

Connor dragged himself off the couch and shuffled down the hall the bathroom to look in the mirror. Zoe followed, and held up a small compact mirror that she kept in her bathroom drawer, so that he could see the back. It was a simple fishtail braid, but it was nice. Connor’s hair wasn’t wildly out of control for once.

“It’s nice.”

“That’s it? Just nice?” Zoe huffed. “I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this braid. You look damn beautiful, asshole.”

Connor laughed. “Okay, fine. I look beautiful. Thank you.”

Zoe put her hands on his shoulders. “Now, you look amazing, and you’re going to be great next semester. You’re excited for your psychology classes, and you’re excited to see Evan, and you’re going to get over him.”

Connor nodded. “I’m going to get over him.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to alienate anyone who didn't watch glee.


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're back at school because writing summer vacation is surprisingly difficult.

Evan bounced nervously on the balls of his feet. It was the first day of his second year of college. Well—it was move-in day, technically the first day of classes wasn’t until two days later, but still. It was going to be the first time he’d seen Connor in months. His mom hadn’t been able to get the day off, so he took the bus again, bouncing his leg for the entire three hour trip. He felt nauseous. On the one hand, he couldn’t wait to see Connor again. On the other hand, what if things had changed? What if things were weird? Jared said he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t help the way his stomach churned with anxiety.

This time, their room was on the second floor, which meant a better view, but also that Evan had to lug his duffle up the stairs by himself. He made it, eventually, but not without a little bit of sweat. Before he opened the door, he paused to fix his hair and wipe some of the sweat on the sleeve of the jacket he had tied around his waist. He’d tried to look his best for this first day. He’d worn a new shirt— still pale blue, still a collared button up, but no stripes—and he was sporting a brand new pair of brown hiking boots that he’d only been able to afford because they were somehow 75% off. He wasn’t going to let a little sweat ruin the look.

He slid the jacket over his shoulder, because having it tied around his waist might’ve made coming up the stairs easier, but it was totally dorky, picked his duffle up over the same shoulder and fumbled with the keys. He pushed open the door, and took a step into his new home. There was a common space with a couch and a table a couple of chairs. There were three doors, two numbered, and one blank. One of the numbered doors, the one with the number that matched Evan’s key, was slightly ajar.

Evan pushed open the door all the way. “Connor?” He asked, but the room was empty. It was a little bigger than last year’s, with more floor space in between the beds and desks. Connor had once again beaten Evan to the punch, and his black comforter was already draped over one of the beds, but this time neither bed had a window above it, instead the window was high on the back wall of the room. Evan threw his duffle on the open bed, and then sat down next to it. Clearly, Connor had been here, but Evan had no idea where he would’ve gone.

Evan pulled out his phone and shot his mom a quick text: _Made it safe, miss you already._

He was about to text Connor, when the door opened, and Connor came in with his own mother a few steps behind him. Connor looked _really_ good. His hair was up in a braided bun and his nails had been freshly painted, and he was even wearing what must've been a new leather jacket. Evan immediately felt self conscious about his outfit, even though he’d been so confident in it before Connor showed up.

On some level, he knew he was being absolutely fucking ridiculous. Connor had seen him in his pajamas and with bedhead before, an ugly shirt really didn’t matter. But everything with Connor felt different now. He was suddenly filled with the desperate desire to impress Connor. _Is this what a crush is actually like? Everything he does makes me want to light myself on_ _fire_.

“Connor!” Evan jumped up, unable to keep the grin off his face, despite his insecurities.  

“Evan!” Connor’s smile matched Evan’s, and suddenly Evan had no idea why he’d been so nervous to see him again. Connor threw his free arm around Evan--the other hand was shoved in the pocket of his jeans--and brought him in for a side hug. Evan let himself lean into Connor.

“Hi, Mrs. Murphy,” Evan said, remembering his manners and turning away from Connor. “It’s good to see you.”

“Please, call me Cynthia,” Cynthia smiled placidly, “It’s good to see you, too. How was the bus ride? Are you hungry?”

“Mom, _chill_ ,” Connor muttered, flushing slightly. 

“I am a little hungry,” Evan pulled himself out of Connor’s embrace.

“We went out for a bite to eat after the move in,” Connor pointed to a plastic grocery bag in Cynthia’s hand that Evan hadn't noticed before, “We brought you some food.”

“Really?” Evan asked, reaching for the bag. “What is it?”

“Just a burger and some fries, nothing special,” Connor shrugged, and ran a hand through his hair, “But I thought you might be hungry.”

Cynthia handed Evan the bag, which he took eagerly. “Thanks. That’s really nice.” 

“It was all Connor, I promise,” Cynthia said.

Evan looked back at Connor, “Thanks, Connor.”

“Don’t mention it,” Connor fidgeted with the hair band around his wrist. “Seriously, Hansen, don’t mention it. I have a reputation to maintain.” 

Evan gave Connor a skeptical look. “Oh no, we can’t have anyone know that Connor Murphy has a soft side.”

Connor laughed quietly, and met Evan’s eyes with a lingering gaze. Evan’s heart fluttered and he could feel a blush spreading across his cheeks. 

Cynthia cleared her throat awkwardly, “It’s getting late, I should probably head home. I have a bit of a drive ahead of me.”

Connor blinked, as if he’d forgotten she was there. “Right, yeah. Thanks for coming this year. It was nice.”

“It was nice,” Cynthia smiled, and held an arm open for a hug.

Connor took a step towards his mom and gave her a hug. Cynthia made her goodbyes, and then it was just Connor and Evan.

Evan sat cross legged on his bed, nibbling on his burger. “What classes do you have this semester?” 

“Oh, a couple psych classes and a drawing course,” Connor pushed Evan’s duffle aside and sat next to him. “I have a few fine art credits, so I figure I might as well go for a minor, even if I’m not majoring in it anymore.”

“That makes sense.” 

“What about you?”

“Another environmentalism course, evolutionary anthropology, a poetry workshop, and Biology II,” Evan wasn’t super excited about any of the classes, but they were all credits he needed. “Most of them are for my General Education requirements.”

“A poetry workshop sounds cool,” Connor nudged Evan. 

Evan almost giggled, but he held it back. “I mean, maybe. I do like to write.”

“You could write about the trees, like Thoreau and stuff,” Connor grinned. He had a beautiful smile, which Evan had noticed before, but now it made his heart overflow with affection.

“I can see it now,” Evan put his hand out in the air, “Tree Poems, Like Thoreau And Stuff, an anthology by Evan Hansen.”

“I forgot how sassy you can be.”

“I have to make up for the crippling social anxiety with something,” Evan said cavalierly.

“Maybe you should focus on moving in,” Connor raised an eyebrow. 

“Hey, I’m eating!” Evan said just a little defensively. “You can’t bring me a burger and then not let me eat it.”

“Fair,” Connor put his hands up. “But at least make your bed, so you can sleep in it tonight.”

“Since when are you such a Mom Friend?” Evan retorted. “You brought me dinner and you want me to make my bed.”

“Hey, I _am_ an older sibling,” Connor pointed out. “It’s in our nature.”

“You spent the whole summer being a Big Brother and helping Zoe prepare for college didn’t you?” Evan beamed. “I love that.” 

“Hey, I had to make up for lost time.” Connor pushed off from Evan’s bed.

“Hm, well, it looks like I was right,” Evan smirked.

“Right about what?” Connor leaned against his own bed. 

“I told you to talk to her, remember?” Evan let his tone carry a hint of mischievousness. “Looks like I was right.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Just make your damn bed.” 

“It’s good to see you, too, Connor. I’m glad you missed me so much this summer,” Evan’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Connor’s countenance shifted to be just slightly more serious. “I did, you know?”

“Hm?” Evan stood up off his bed and pulled the duffle with him. Connor was right, he did need to make his bed.

“I missed you, Evan.”

Evan stopped, his heart beating wildly in his chest. “I…I missed you, too, Connor.”


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan has something to tell Connor.

Evan stood in the courtyard outside the dorm building. He’d told Connor he was going to the library to study, but the truth was he just wanted to call Jared. Well, okay, he _had_ gone to the library for a little over an hour, but he hadn’t so much studied as sat with his notebook out and daydreamed. He was starting to wonder if Connor might actually be listening when he says he has his earbuds in. He knew he was definitely just paranoid, but he also knew he was going to be talking to Jared about Connor, and he just didn’t want to risk it. He picked on a bench that he knew was out of the sightline of their window, and slung his backpack down. He pulled his phone out, and sat down on the bench.

“Y-ello!” Jared answered the phone. 

“Hey, Jared, got a minute?” Evan asked, already feeling constriction in his chest.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to meet Patrick in about an hour, but I have some time,” Jared paused. “Why? What’s up?”

“I, uh,” Evan cleared his throat. “I need a pep talk.” 

“A pep talk for what?” 

“I’m gonna do it.” Evan said firmly. “I’m gonna tell Connor how I feel.” 

There was a long pause before Evan heard Jared hooting and hollering. “FINALLY” 

“Jared,” Evan groaned. “Just help me.”

“Okay,” Jared took a breath. “Here’s what you do: you just talk to him normally and tell him how you feel, and try to stay calm.”

“But what if—”

“But nothing,” Jared insisted. “It’s been two weeks since school started, and you haven’t made a move yet. You promised me you would.” 

“Yeah,” Evan sighed. “I did. But I’m scared.”

“You have no reason to be scared,” Jared said gently. “Even if he doesn’t want to be with you, he cares about you a lot. You’re not gonna lose his friendship.”

Rationally, Evan knew Jared was right. But that didn’t make the prospect of baring his soul to Connor any less terrifying. “I know.” 

“Now, go get your man.”

Evan nodded. “Okay, okay,” he took a deep breath. “I can do this.”

“You can do this!” Jared shouted gleefully.

“Yeah!” 

“Yeah!”

Evan felt a little better, knowing that at the very least he had Jared on his side. Even if Connor rejected him, he’d at least be able to call Jared and cry on his shoulder, even if Jared was a few hours away.

“Are you ready?” Jared asked.

“I think so.”

“Knock ‘em dead, Tiger.” Evan could hear Jared’s grin. 

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” Evan said. “Talk to you later.”

Evan stayed on the park bench for a few moments after he hung up, trying to gather his frantic thoughts. He was still terrified out of his mind. After the conversation he was about to have with Connor, nothing would be the same. It didn’t matter what Connor said, their relationship could never go back to the way it was, because at the back of Connor’s mind he’d always be thinking about how weird it was that Evan had a crush on him and— 

Evan stopped himself. If he kept thinking like that he’d never work up the nerve to tell Connor how he felt, and that didn’t seem like a viable option. If he didn’t tell Connor, things would just eventually become weird and tense between them, because Evan was about as subtle as a sledgehammer, and that would just be a mess. He had to be honest, with himself, and with Connor. Connor deserved that much.

Evan straightened himself out, picked up his backpack and headed back up the stairs to their room. He passed by a few of their other roommates, who gave him a smile and a nod, as he slipped through the common room. 

“Hey, Connor, I got frustrated with studying and I came back,” Evan announced, as he walked into their shared room, eyes already focused on a spec on the wall because there was no way he could look Connor in the eye and do this.

“Evan!” Connor squeaked from his spot on his bed like a deer in the headlights, blushing bright crimson. At first, Evan didn’t realize why. He was blow drying his hair—he must’ve showered—but that seemed normal. And then Evan let himself really look at Connor, and _Oh. Oh no._ Connor wasn’t wearing any pants, or even a shirt for that matter, just a pair of grey batman boxers. _Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, don’t look, don’t look._

“Oh my God, C-C-Connor, I’m s-s-so sorry,” Evan averted his gaze, but not before catching a glimpse of Connor’s long legs and his chest, which were both surprisingly muscled. Maybe Connor wasn’t as much of a noodle as he looked. _No shit, he used to be a dancer, why wouldn’t he be well built? He’s probably flexible, too..._

Evan tried to shut down that train of thought as quickly as possible. The last thing he needed was to be thinking about _that_ when he told Connor how he felt.

“Okay,” Connor said after what Evan knew was just a few seconds, but what felt like an eternity. “You can stop looking away.”

 Evan looked back at Connor, who was now wearing black skinny jeans, and a black t-shirt, as usual. “So, I guess you took a shower, then?”

Connor nodded. His hair looked almost dry. There was a comb on the bed, and Evan was a little impressed by the implications. Connor actually put a lot of effort into blow drying his hair. Huh. “Yeah.”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon.” Actually, it was nearly four thirty.

Connor shrugged. “I have plans tonight.”

Evan raised an eyebrow at that, but decided to let it go. “Well, can I talk to you about something really quick?”

Connor took a step toward his desk and pulled out a small black zippered pouch. “Sure. What’s up?”

“I, uh…” Evan’s voice wobbled. “Well, the thing is. I just. Um.”

“Spit it out, Hansen, I don’t have all day," Connor said, but it wasn't a snap.   

“We’re, y’know, best friends, right?” Evan asked, his voice not much more than a squeaky whisper.

“Yeah,” Connor smiled. “That sounds about right.” 

“Good, good, that’s good,” Evan laughed nervously. “I never want anything to change that. You mean a lot to me, Connor.”

Connor looked at Evan with a look he couldn’t read. “Don’t worry. I don’t want anything to change either.”

Evan nodded. “Cool, cool. Great.”

Connor frowned. “Is that it?” He wasn’t impatient. He must’ve assumed Evan was just having a bad anxiety day or something and needed a little extra reassurance that Connor did, in fact, care about him, and he hadn’t made their whole friendship up in his head.  

“No, er, I mean,” Evan cleared his throat and moved to sit down on his bed. “Sit with me while we talk?”

Connor pulled what looked like a black colored pencil out of his pouch—eyeliner, Evan realized, and the pouch was a makeup bag. “I guess my makeup can wait.”

Connor sat down next to Evan, on Evan’s bed. “Talk to me.” 

“Well, it’s like this,” Evan took a deep breath. This was it, he was going to do it. He was really going to do it. “You remember when you fell out of that tree?”

“No, I’ve completely forgotten,” Connor deadpanned. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about right now.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Well—” He stopped. His mind had only just processed everything that Connor had said and done since Evan had walked into the room. _Shower, makeup…plans tonight? Oh…No._

“Is there more to that sentence, or?” Connor smirked. 

“What, uh,” Evan fidgeted with the hem of his button-up. “What exactly are those plans that you have tonight?" 

“Oh,” Connor’s smirk stretched into a genuine smile. “I have a date tonight.”

It felt like getting kicked in the stomach by someone wearing steel toed boots. Evan couldn’t breath, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t process anything except for how badly he wanted to sink into the floor and stop existing. Connor had a date, a date he clearly cared about considering how he was primping and preening beforehand. He wanted to look good for some guy. Evan swallowed, feeling a lump starting to form in his throat from the tears he was holding back. “Oh,” he managed.  

“It’s not, like, a big deal or anything,” Connor shrugged. “It’s just this guy from my abnormal psych class. His name’s Wyatt and he asked me out for coffee a few days ago, and I said yes.” 

Evan cocked his head to the side. “You’re getting coffee at night?” 

Connor chuckled. “No, we got coffee after class that day, and I liked talking to him, so we’re going out on an actual date tonight. I guess it’s technically our second date.” 

Evan’s chest was collapsing in on itself. _Second date. Second date in three days._ Evan felt sick to his stomach. _God, I’m so stupid._

“Anyways,” Connor said dismissively. “You had something to tell me?”

Evan froze up, his voice caught in his throat. Connor stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain himself. Evan wracked his brain, trying to find an excuse for all that build up. He couldn’t tell Connor how he felt now, not when he had definitive proof that Connor didn’t like him back. Connor liked some guy named Wyatt from his psychology class. “I, uh…” 

Connor put a hand on his hip. “I’m running late, so tell me now, or let me finish getting ready.”

“S-S-Sorry,” Evan choked out. “I just w-w-w-wanted to tell you that I’m g-g-g-glad you didn’t get more s-s-s-seriously injured when you fell out of the tree.”

Connor quirked an eyebrow, but nodded curtly. “Well, I appreciate that thought, but I don’t think you had to make such a big deal out of it.” 

“Yeah,” Evan said quietly. “You’re probably right.”

Connor stood up and headed for the door. “I’m gonna do my makeup in the bathroom—always good to have a mirror.” And then he was out the door and gone.

Evan was grateful for that. He could only keep it together for long when it felt like all the air was being sucked out of his lungs. He curled into himself, knees to his chest, head down. _I’m so stupid. Of course he doesn’t like me. Of course._ Then came the hot tears, rolling down his cheeks in fat drops.

He knew Connor would be back soon, but for a moment he gave into the sudden feeling of hollowness in his chest. He cried as much as he could before Connor came back in for his phone, keys, jacket, and wallet. Evan stayed frozen, holding his breath to hide how ragged it was, and banked on Connor being too rushed to really process that Evan was curled in a ball on his bed.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Connor called over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

“S-S-S-See you then,” Evan said in a raspy voice. “Have—”

Connor slammed the door behind him.

“—Fun.”


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan processes his heartbreak. Wyatt is a tool. Jared is the voice of reason, and that’s never a good thing.

Evan felt like a husk of a person. He’d spent the last week and a half licking his wounds and crying over Connor. He was all dried up, unable to produce anymore tears, and yet his chest still ached. He felt so stupid to think that he might actually have a chance with Connor. He felt even stupider to be wasting so much time crying over it, but he couldn’t help it. It was _Connor_. Evan had never felt like that about anyone before.

He was curled up on his bed, trying to sleep, but failing. Every couple of minutes he would check his phone, and his stomach would drop because it was getting later and later and Connor was out with _Wyatt,_ doing God knows what. A sour, metallic taste filled Evan’s mouth at the thought of Connor with Wyatt. He wished desperately that he hadn’t met Wyatt, that he didn’t have a face to the name. It was all too easy to imagine those hands on Connor, and Evan wanted to scream. 

He sighed and sat up, still clutching his phone. He dialed Jared’s number with a resigned sigh. “Go for Jared.”

“I met him.”

“You really need to work on your greetings,” Jared chuckled. “But anywhomst, what’s this about meeting someone?”

Evan scowled. “ _Him_. Wyatt.” The name felt wrong coming out of Evan’s mouth.

“Oh.”

“He’s the worst, Jared,” Evan groaned. “I mean, he’s awful.”

“I’m sure you’re letting jealousy cloud your judgment,” Jared clicked his teeth. “You’ll never be able to deal with this, if you let jealousy run things.”

“No, Jared, really,” Evan insisted. “He’s not a good person.” 

“Alright, alright,” Jared sighed, “Just tell me what happened.”

 

_Evan sat at his desk, staring as the cursor flashed at the top of an empty word document. He was supposed to be writing a poem for his poetry class, but he couldn’t focus on anything, let alone a poem. What would he even write about? He’d already turned in a poem about Connor, he didn’t think another one would bode well for him._

_It didn’t help anything that Connor had another date with Wyatt, which meant he was a flurry of activity. He’d put his hair up in a twist bun, save a section of his bangs, which he let frame his face. He’d given his nails a fresh coat of polish, and he’d spent a solid twenty minutes perfecting the wings on his eyeliner. A bitter part of Evan’s brain wished that Connor would go to all that trouble for him, and not for some random guy._

_Not that Evan really needed Connor to go to all that trouble for him. Evan thought Connor looked beautiful all the time._

_“Where are you guys going?” Evan asked, knowing full well he was going to punish himself with whatever the answer was later._

_“We’re going to the movies,” Connor said with a smile. “Wyatt wants to see that new Wes Anderson film.”_

_“Sounds fun,” Evan forced a smile. Evan wasn’t a huge fan of going out to the movies, because the cinema speakers were always too loud, but he would’ve liked to have seen that new movie with Connor._

_“Yeah,” Connor nodded excitedly, “I’ve never really had a classic ‘dinner and a movie’ type date before. I dated this one guy in high school, Max, but that was mostly just getting high and making out.”_

_Evan immediately felt bad for being so bitter. He did want Connor to be happy, after all. Connor deserved so much. “Makes sense.”_

_“Wyatt should be here to pick me up soon,” Connor said checking the time on his phone, “Is it okay if he comes up?”_

_Evan’s eyes widened. The last thing he wanted was to interact with Connor’s new boyfriend, but he felt like it would be a dick move to say no. “Sure, I guess.”_

_“Great,” Connor tapped out a message on his phone, probably telling Wyatt that it was okay if he came up._

_Evan and Connor sat in a silence for a few minutes, and Evan was glad for it. He didn’t want to hear anything from Connor about his boyfriend, or his plans, or how god damn happy he was. It hurt too much. The silence was broken by the deafening sound of a 1000 CC motorcycle pulling into the parking lot behind their building._

_“That’ll be Wyatt,” Connor said as though Evan didn’t know. Evan heard that same obnoxious sound every time Wyatt showed up for a date with Connor. Except most nights, Wyatt just stayed outside on his bike and wailed on his horn until Connor went outside. At least Wyatt would be coming up this time._

_Connor scooped up his makeup bag and hairdryer and shoved them both in the back of his closet. He may have spent a significant amount of time prettying himself up, but he apparently didn’t want Wyatt to know it._

_Connor was just closing the closet door when Wyatt pounded on the door._

_“Hey Murphy, open up!” Wyatt’s voice was low, a bit rough, and surprisingly harsh._

_Evan slid out of his chair and walked to the door. “I got it,” he said to Connor, who stayed glued to his spot. Evan opened up the door to the kind of man he’d be scared to sit next to on public transport. He was tall, taller than Connor, even, probably well into his twenties, maybe even over twenty five, with very deliberately tousled dirty blonde hair and brown eyes. He wore steel toed motorcycle boots, torn dark blue jeans, a black leather jacket. A snake tattoo circled up from his shoulder—maybe it went as far as his arm?—up his neck. The cherry on top was the lit cigarette in his right hand._

_He took a drag and leaned against the doorframe before speaking. “I’m Wyatt.”_

_“N-N-Nice to meet you,” Evan managed, trying not to cough on the cigarette smoke that Wyatt had blown in his face. “I’m Evan, Connor’s roommate.”_

_Wyatt looked past Evan to Connor. “Hey, Con, you ready to go?” Evan rolled his eyes as subtly as he could._ Con? Really?

_Connor nodded and stepped forward. “Yeah, definitely,” he hesitated, “One thing, though, this building is non-smoking.”_

_Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Lame. Got an ashtray?”_

_Connor shook his head. “I don’t smoke anymore.”_

_Evan sighed, picked up a half drank water bottle from his desk, and extended it towards Wyatt. “You can use this.”_

_“Evan,” Connor tried, “You don’t have to do that…”_

_“It’s okay,” Evan said without looking up. “I wasn’t gonna finish it anyway.”_

_Wyatt shrugged and dropped his cigarette into the water bottle. Evan grimaced and crinkled his nose in disgust at the burning scent of tobacco. He screwed the cap onto the bottle as tightly as he could, trying to capture the smoke inside, and stepped back toward his bed._

_Connor didn’t say anything to Evan, instead he addressed Wyatt. “What do you think of our place?”_

_Wyatt shrugged. “The décor is a little simplistic, but it’s not a total lost cause. I could hook you up with a friend of mine who could simply work wonders.”_

_Evan scoffed to himself,_ It’s a college dorm room _, but he kept quiet._

_“I think we’ll be okay,” Connor replied awkwardly. “Thanks, though.”_

_Evan put down the water bottle, it’s contents now tinged a yellowish amber color, and tried to ignore the building anger in his gut and make conversation. “So, you met Connor in a psychology class?”_

_“Yeah,” Wyatt nodded. “I’m fascinated by the human mind, and the fucked up things it does. I think everyone’s a freak in someway or another.”_

_Evan raised and eyebrow and made eye contact with Connor, but Connor didn’t seem bothered by Wyatt’s assertion._

_“That’s why I admire Wes Anderson’s work so much. He truly captures the human condition. Though his films are wrapped in pretty packaging, with the saturated pastels and symmetrical frames, the real meat of them is how disgusting and depraved we all are, myself included.”_

_Evan didn’t really know what to make of that. He’d never really thought about Wes Anderson films like that before. He just liked the aesthetics of them, really._

_Wyatt continued. “To quote the father of all modern psychology, Sigmund Freud—”_

_“Okay!” Connor cut Wyatt off awkwardly. “I think it’s time for us to go.” Connor crossed the threshold and dragged Wyatt with him. “Don’t wait up, Evan!”_

_“Have a good time,” Evan mustered the best smile he could and waved at Connor and Wyatt as they walked down the hall._

 

“Wow.” Jared clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, “I mean, he doesn’t seem great, but he’s not, like, mass murderer awful.”

“You’re being way too diplomatic.”

“No, I’m being a voice of reason,” Jared chuckled, “Which you clearly need.”

“Whatever,” Evan ignored Jared. “This is still awful.”

“I know.” 

“I mean, what does Connor even see in him?” Evan reached a tone that could only be described as shrieking.

“Maybe he has a big dick,” Jared said, absolutely, completely seriously. 

“Jared!” Evan’s scowl deepened. He did not want to think about anything even remotely related to Wyatt’s dick.

“Hey, you asked what Connor saw in him,” Jared retorted. “I’m just saying, it’s not outside the realm of possibility.” 

“Well, no,” Evan admitted. “But I really hope it’s not that.”

Jared snorted. “So you’re hoping Connor likes Wyatt for his _personality_? Which is still very much possible. You’ve only met the guy once.” 

“Touché,” Evan sighed. “I guess if I’m being totally honest with myself, I’m hoping that Connor doesn’t actually like Wyatt at all.”

“Oh, Evan.” Jared sounded pitying. “I know. I know this hurts. You remember in high school when Sam Whittaker went out with Melissa Peterson?”

“You were a mess,” Evan remembered. “Kept crying about how ‘all the good ones are straight.’”

“But I got over it,” Jared said in the soft, calming voice he usually reserved for when he had to calm Evan down from a panic attack. “And you’ll get over Connor.”

“This is different, Jared. You didn’t even really know Sam. You just had a crush on him sophomore year of high school,” Evan shook his head sadly. “Connor is my best friend. I love him.”

“Um, wow. I thought I was your best friend. I can’t believe you would betray me like this for a string bean with a haircut.”

“Jared.” But Evan almost laughed at Jared’s description of Connor. “You know you’re my best friend, too.”

“I know, I know. Just trying to lighten the mood.” 

“I know.” Evan smiled, a small, tentative smile. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is a good day, and here's why: I'M BACK. Thanks for waiting.


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Wyatt go on a date.

Connor looked down at his sketchbook. In front of him was what started out as a drawing of Wyatt, but ended up as a drawing of Evan, somehow. It was kind of impressive given that Wyatt and Evan did not have even close to the same body type. Wyatt was tall and muscular and Evan was both thin and short. But it was also a reminder that try as Connor might, he wasn’t really over Evan. At least, not yet. But Wyatt was growing on him, at least.

Connor shook his head and closed his sketchbook. Maybe Zoe would be able to help. He’d been trying not to rely on her too much, because he knew she would be busy settling into her new school situation, but it was the third to last day of September, so Connor figured she’d be settled in by that point.

“Hello?” She sounded distracted. Maybe this was a bad time.

“Hey, Zoe,” Connor grimaced. “Got a minute?”

Zoe sighed, and Connor could hear sounds of shuffling. “Yeah. I needed a break from music theory, anyway. What’s up?”

“I don’t know, just…” Connor hesitated. “I’m dating someone.”

There was a pause, and then a slight confused, “Okay.”

“His name is Wyatt. I met him in one of my classes.”

“Well, I mean,” Zoe still seemed confused. “Good for you, moving on from Evan. I’m proud of you. I bet Wyatt’s great."  

Connor deflated. “That’s the thing.”

“You’re not actually over Evan, are you?” Zoe asked, knowingly.

“I mean,” Connor shook his head. “I’m trying, I really am.” 

“But, it’s hard because you live with Evan, and you can’t just will your feelings away, no matter how many guys you date.”

“It’s only been one guy.” A beat. “But yeah.”

“Well, maybe this Wyatt guy isn’t right for you,” Zoe suggested, “Maybe you need to find a different guy.”

“Wyatt is fine,” Connor insisted, “That’s not the point.”

“Wow,” Zoe scoffed sarcastically, “Way to defend your boyfriend, sounds like you really care about him.”

“Are you gonna help me, or are you just gonna be annoying?” Connor snapped.

“I don’t see how I can help you,” Zoe retorted.

“Well, you can, you just, I mean…” Connor trailed off. “I don’t know.”

“You’re a disaster.”

Connor groaned. “I know.”

“Tell me about this Wyatt guy,” Zoe said gently.

“He’s tall,” Connor said, “Taller than me, even. And his _arms_. Zoe, have you ever seen a bicep so beautiful you cried?”

Zoe laughed. “Do you have anything else to say about him besides the physical?” 

Connor blushed. “What? He’s hot.” 

“Is that all?” 

“I mean,” Connor wasn’t really sure what to say. “He has a motorcycle. He talks about movies a lot. He smokes, but he mentioned something about wanting to quit the other day.” 

“Sounds interesting.” Zoe didn’t sound impressed.

“He’s funny,” Connor stumbled over his words. “He’s got his flaws…Sure. Sometimes he yells. But, hey, who am I to be picky?”

“Connor.” Zoe’s voice was stern. She wasn’t happy with Connor, though he couldn’t imagine why. 

“Hey, you’re the one who told me to move on,” Connor pointed out stubbornly. 

“I told you to move on,” Zoe sounded frustrated. “I didn’t tell you to jump into bed with the first dickhead on a motorcycle you came across! This is so blatantly self-destructive. I want you to help yourself, Connor.”

“I did not ‘jump into bed’ with him!” Connor snapped, feeling more than a little blind-sided by Zoe’s anger. “We haven’t even had sex.”

“Really?”

Connor snorted and rolled his eyes. “Why does that surprise you?”

“You’re just…You know…Edgy…” Zoe said awkwardly.

Connor coughed out a laugh. “Zoe. I’m such a virgin.”

“Oh.” 

Connor couldn’t stop laughing. “You’re so dumb.”

Zoe made a sound somewhere in between an inhale and an offended scoff. “Rude.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Connor tried to control his laughter. “It’s just that I’m not even that interested in sex. Like…I don’t know. I don’t really look at someone and think about that."

“But you had a boyfriend for like two years in high school,” Zoe insisted, although not with a lot of force. She was embarrassed.

“I had a guy who I made out with sometimes when we got high,” Connor didn’t even wonder how Zoe had known that. It was the job of a little sister to spy on her older sibling. “But that’s as far as it went.” 

“Huh.”

“Yeah,” Connor ran a hand through his hair. “So, yeah, Wyatt and I have not had sex, and I really have no interest in it.”

“Sorry that I made that assumption,” Zoe said.

“No worries." 

“I still don’t think he’s good for you,” Zoe said. Connor could imagine that she had her hand on her hip. “I’m sure he’s not a bad guy, but you’ve come so far, and he doesn’t seem like a step forward. You said he smokes? What if he pressures you, and you end up relapsing?”

Connor scowled. “I guess. But aren’t you the one who told me to move on?”

“Not like this, Connor,” Zoe sighed, “Not like this. When I told you to move on, I meant someone who would be good for you.”

Connor didn’t really know what that meant. How else was he supposed to move on? Wyatt had asked him out, and he’d said yes, because he wanted to move on. What other way was there of moving on? “It’s not like there are boys lining down the block to take me out.” 

“Connor.” 

“I should go,” Connor had another date with Wyatt that night.

“Alright,” Zoe sounded resigned. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” Connor said flatly.

“Bye.” 

Connor hung up and opened his sketchbook again. He picked up a pen and scribbled over the sketch of Evan until he could no longer make out the shape of his face, exhaled deeply, and slammed the sketchbook shut. He had to get ready for his date.

They were going to some bar that Wyatt knew, something about craft beer, or something. Connor didn’t really care. It’s not like he was going to drink, anyway., Usually, he did his hair and makeup before a date, but they were just going to a bar, and who knows what the fake ID Wyatt said he’d procure (Connor didn’t ask how) for him would look like. Wyatt was twenty two, but Connor got the feeling that he’d been drinking and smoking for a lot longer than a year.

Wyatt was a good thirty minutes late, and Connor was glad that Evan was over at Caitlyn’s for the evening, or else he knew Evan would make a comment about how late Wyatt was. Evan didn’t like Wyatt, which didn’t surprise Connor very much. Wyatt was a _lot_ , and almost everything he did seemed to set off Evan’s anxiety.

Wyatt didn’t come up when he got there, instead he just wailed on his horn and waited for Connor to come down. Connor dragged his feet as he walked down the stairs to meet Wyatt.

“Took ya long enough,” Wyatt said, irritated.

Connor hopped on the back of Wyatt’s bike, “You’re thirty minutes late.”

Wyatt shrugged. “Doesn’t mean you can take your sweet time getting down here,” he spat, practically gritting his teeth.

A shot of anger ran through Connor, but for once in his life he swallowed it down and wrapped his arms around Wyatt’s torso; the last thing he wanted was a fight. He sighed, “Can we just go?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wyatt muttered, and started up the bike again. “Hold on tight.”

Connor’s hair was a mess by the time they got to the bar, and he was surprised by how much it bothered him. Wyatt’s motorcycle always messed up Connor’s hair, but when it was up it was a little easier to salvage. That night he’d left it down, and the wind had not done it good. Connor found himself wishing that Wyatt let them take Connor’s car at least sometimes, instead of just always taking that stupid bike.

The bar was loud and crowded and full of young people who thought they were hot shit and Connor immediately wanted to make a swift 180, but Wyatt grabbed him by the arm and dragged him along toward a pocket of beanies and thick rimmed glasses, all looking especially smug.

“This is Connor,” he said with a picture perfect smile. “Connor, this is Rainbow, Stefan, Siobhan, and Marco.”

The group all gave Connor bored, but polite nods. “Nice to meet you all,” Connor said awkwardly.

Wyatt addressed Stefan, “Have you seen the new Wes Anderson film?” 

Stefan scoffed. “You call that hot garbage a film?” 

Wyatt raised an eyebrow. “I liked it.” 

Wyatt and Stefan both laughed, but Connor wanted to disappear into the floor. It felt like he was invisible. It wasn’t often that Connor felt so awkward and anxious. Sure, he spent most of high school feeling out of place and unwanted, but the way he felt so judged and sweaty was new to him. _Is this how Evan feels all the time?_

“Uh, so, what’re you all studying?” Connor asked awkwardly. 

They all laughed, and Connor really wanted to evaporate on the spot. “Kid, we’ve all graduated. Wyatt over there is the weird one,” Siobhan said.

“Oh.”

“I’m 26,” she continued, “Marco is 24, Rainbow is 23, and Stefan is 25.” 

“Oh.” Connor felt a bit sick. _Why am even here? What am I doing?_ “I didn’t realize.” 

“Chill out, kid,” Marco laughed. “We’re not that much more adult that you. Siobhan takes herself too seriously.”

Marco seemed genuine enough and Connor let himself relax slightly. “Right, sure, of course.” He forced a chuckle. _I sound like Evan._

Wyatt put a hand on Connor’s shoulder, “Hey, we should get you a drink.” 

Connor didn’t really want a drink. He’d had his fair share of booze in high school, and he used to like it a lot. It was like weed. It helped calm his mind down. But he wasn’t where he was then, or even a year ago, and he really didn’t want to be out of control of himself anymore. 

“Oh,” Connor hesitated. “Actually, I’m staying sober.”

Wyatt’s hipster gang all raised eyebrows at that. “Your loss, kid,” Rainbow spoke up for the first time. “The sours here are to die for.”

Connor wasn’t sure what that meant—obviously it was a type of beer, but they could’ve handed him anything and he’d have believed it.

“Sorry,” he shifted uncomfortably.

Connor spent the rest of the night as the only sober one, while everyone else got buzzed, and at the end of it all, he called an Uber back to campus because Wyatt was definitely too drunk to drive him back, if his sloppy kisses against the wall near the men’s room were any indication. 

“Let’s take it slow,” Connor had said, pushing Wyatt back. “It, It’ll be better, y’know, when we get there. If we wait.” 

Wyatt had scowled, but he let Connor leave without too much of a fight, and Connor was glad for it. He tried to ignore the anxiety and, honestly, revulsion that bubbled up when he thought about Wyatt going any further than kissing him. _Maybe I’ll get used to it, after awhile. Maybe it’s just because I’ve never done it. Maybe one day I’ll wake up desperate to jump his bones._ He leaned against the leather seats of the car and stared out the window.

_Maybe Zoe is right._


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Evan go for a walk in the woods.

It was early October, the cold hadn’t set in yet, and the last of the summer warmth was still lingering. It was the perfect weather for a walk in the woods, crisp and cool, without being freezing. The evening sunlight cast an amber glow through the trees. It was a stunning sight. 

 _Of course, not as stunning as Connor,_ Evan thought, taking note of the way the orange light of sunset illumined the light strands of Connor’s hair. Connor seemed to be glowing as his walked, like he’d been showered in fairy dust. Evan tried really hard to stare as they walked along their usual trail. 

“So,” Evan started uncertainly. “You, um, I noticed, rather, that you brought your sketchbook? Are you going to the draw the trees?”

Connor grinned cheekily. “Maybe.”

“Do I get to see, when you do?” Evan tried to bat his eyes at Connor, but he had no way of knowing if it was successful.

“Evan…” Connor hesitated.

“C’mon!” Evan pleaded. “You never show me your drawings! And I did bring you out here, so I think I deserve to see any art that might result from it.”

Connor sighed. “I hate that you’re right.” 

Evan let himself flash a small, satisfied smile. “So?”

“Alright,” Connor acquiesced. “I will show you what I draw today, _if I finish it.”_

“That’s sounds fair,” Evan nodded. He did respect Connor’s artistic integrity. If he didn’t want to show Evan unfinished work, that sounded reasonable. If the piece wasn’t what Connor wanted it to be, he shouldn’t be forced to share it.

“What about you?” Connor asked abruptly.

“What about me?”

“I’m going to draw when we get to that clearing, what are you gonna do?” Connor chuckled, his eyes gleaming in the late afternoon light.

“Oh, I was gonna climb the tree,” Evan shrugged and skipped ahead. He stopped when he realized that Connor had also stopped. “Connor?” 

“You’re not gonna…” Connor trailed off, eyes wide as dinner plates.

“Oh!” Evan put a reassuring hand on Connor’s shoulder, though that seemed to agitate him further, for some reason. “You get to stay on the ground. I’m not some kind of monster.”

Connor let out a deep exhale and brought his gaze around to meet Evan’s eyes, picking at the corner of his sketchbook bashfully. “Thanks.”

Evan smiled gently, feeling himself start to blush. “Of course.” Neither of them broke eye contact, or made any move to start walking again.

Connor’s eyes were _so_ blue, and Evan knew that, but he’d never really stopped to notice how blue they really were. They were as clear and bright as the bluest sky you’d ever seen, a summer sky without a single cloud. And then there was the freckle of brown in his right eye, an island in a seemingly endless sea.

“So,” Evan cleared his throat, willing himself to break eye contact, because it was probably getting weird and Connor would wonder why Evan was being so weird and staring at him like that. “Um. We’re…uh…we’re losing daylight. We should, we should keep going.”

Connor blinked, and looked over Evan’s shoulder. “Lead the way.”

They walked in silence until they came to the clearing. They had maybe an hour of daylight left, which meant about 45 minutes to hang out, and then they needed to use to the remaining light to walk back to the dorm building. The last thing either of them wanted was to get stuck in the woods after dark.

Connor sat down against the trunk of the oak tree and opened his sketchbook to a blank page. He pulled a soft lead pencil out of his pocket and started sketching. Evan climbed to the top of the oak tree and looked out over the forest and campus. It still gave him a sense of peace unlike anything else. The new semester had been going alright, but it was exhausting trying to ignore the way his chest ached every time Connor mentioned Wyatt. A moment of peace was exactly what Evan needed.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. _Dear Evan Hansen, today was a good day, and here’s why. Connor is still your friend, even if he won’t ever see you as anything, but a really good friend. That’s okay. You’ll be okay. I’ll be okay. Sincerely, Me._ He breathed out and opened his eyes. He gazed forward, letting his mind wander as he enjoyed the sunset behind the trees.

“Hey, Hansen!” Connor called from the bottom of the tree, pulling Evan from his daydreams. “Whatcha doing?”

“Enjoying the view!” Evan called back, “What are you doing?”

“Why don’t you come down here and find out?”

Evan shifted slightly to look down at Connor. He was holding up his sketchbook and waving it, with a grin. Evan’s jaw dropped in disbelief. _He couldn’t have finished a drawing that fast._

Evan scrambled down the tree, stopping on one of the lower branches (but definitely not the lowest) to catch his breath before finishing his descent. “Did you really finish a drawing so quickly?" 

“It’s just a quick sketch,” Connor shrugged, “But you’ve wanted to see my drawings for awhile, and I think it came out pretty good.”

Evan grinned. “Awesome!” 

“But you have to come down here if you want to see it,” Connor demanded.

Evan raised an eyebrow, and then moved his legs so he was facing away from Conner. He gripped the branch with his legs and arms, and let himself slide part way down until he was sideways on the branch, and then slowly he let go, until he was fully hanging upside down.

Connor craned his neck up to meet his eye. “You’re still too far up.”

“So stand!” Evan huffed. “You’re almost as tall as a tree, anyway.”

Connor made a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a groan, and leaned back against the tree. 

“Don’t be lazy, you have legs, might as well use them.” _And soon_ , Evan added in his head, already feeling all the blood rushing towards his brain.

Connor finally gave in and stood up, and his head was just about at the level of Evan’s and Evan suddenly regretted everything, as his brain flooded with _Spiderman kiss, Spiderman kiss, Spiderman kiss._

“Do you want to come down from there?” Connor asked. “Your face is, like, really red.”

“N-no,” Evan coughed, “I’m fine. Show me the drawing.”

Connor rolled his eyes and flipped open his sketchbook. “Like I said, it’s a quick line drawing, there’s no shading or anything, but I really hope you like it.” He held open the book in front of Evan’s face. 

The drawing was…. _Evan_. It was Evan, sitting on a branch, with his eyes closed, smiling softly. Evan’s words caught in his throat. “You…I…This…Wow.”

“What do you think?” 

“Connor,” Evan was sure he was somehow even redder. “It’s…me.” 

“Yep,” Connor grinned. He sounded pleased as punch with himself. Evan would’ve given anything to wipe the smug grin off Connor’s face with a kiss.

Instead he asked a question. “How did you manage that, though? You couldn’t even see my face. And you did it so fast.” 

“Muscle memory,” Connor said dismissively, with a wave of his hand, and then he stopped, eyes wide. “I mean…”

“Muscle memory?” Evan repeated, pulling himself up to hold the branch with his arms, dropping his legs, and finally letting go of the tree entirely to stand in front of Connor. “How…How many times have you drawn me before?”

Connor looked down at his feet. “You’re just always there, okay!” Connor insisted. “I promise I’m not creepy or anything. It’s just easy to draw you because you’re always there, and you have a good face…for drawing, I mean.”

Evan could hear the blood rushing in his ears. _Connor drew him. Connor drew him a lot. Connor liked to draw him._ “N-no, it’s not…I think it’s sweet.”

Evan might’ve been imagining it, but he could’ve sworn he saw a dusting of pink flash across Connor’s cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck and kept his eyes locked on his boots. “Thanks.”

“And you’re a really good artist, Connor.”

Connor looked up in soft surprise. “Really? You think so?” 

“Yeah, dude,” Evan held up the drawing for Connor to see, “I mean, you made me look aesthetically pleasing. Me.” 

Connor scowled, “You’re already aesthetically pleasing.”

Evan’s heart leapt into his throat. _He didn’t mean it like that_ , Evan reminded himself, _he has a boyfriend. Wyatt. Wyatt is his boyfriend._ “You’re a good artist, Connor.”

Connor shrugged noncommittally. “I guess.”

“You are.” Evan grabbed Connor by the shoulders and gave him a shake. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re a good artist.”

Connor fought a smile, but complied. “Imagoodartist,” he mumbled.

“What was that?” Evan asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Fine,” Connor huffed. His smile won the battle with the rest of his face. “I’m a good artist, or whatever.”

Evan beamed. “Damn right, you are!” He drew Connor into a quick hug. “Can I keep the drawing?” He asked as he pulled back.

Connor’s eyebrows went almost halfway up his forehead. “You want to keep it?”

“Well, yeah,” Evan fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. _You drew it for me, that makes it special._ “It’s probably the best picture of me that exists.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “You need to stop being so hard on yourself, Hansen.”

“Easy for you to say,” Evan gave Connor a playful shove, “You got that chiseled jaw line and those piercing blue eyes. I mean, really, look at yourself.”

Connor rubbed the palm of his hand against the nape of his neck again, and Evan immediately regretted his words. _You’re making him uncomfortable, you dumbass._

“I mean, in a purely, you know,” Evan wheezed, “Platonic, objective sense.”

“Right,” Connor made a sour face and nodded.

“N-N-N-Nothing to worry about here,” Evan stuttered, “I mean, in that regard. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Connor kept nodding. “We should probably head back, it’s getting late.” He motioned to the darkening sky. 

“Right. Heading back is something we should do,” Evan turned on his heel, still carrying the sketchbook. Connor trailed behind. Neither one of them said anything. Evan had dug himself too deep a hole anyway, and Connor…God, Connor probably felt _so_ awkward. Evan could not have been less unsubtle.

It wasn’t until they were almost out of the woods when Connor spoke up, breaking the tense silence that had followed them the rest of the way back. “Can I have my sketchbook back?” 

“Oh,” Evan blushed and held the book out towards Connor, feeling his stomach drop. _I guess I lost my drawing-keeping privileges._ “Sorry.” 

“Do you still want the drawing?” Connor asked gently.

Evan’s eyes snapped up, “You still…Er… Do you _want_ me to have it?”

Connor shrugged. “If you want it.”

Evan considered for a moment. He did want it. “Yeah, yeah I do.”

Connor smiled hesitantly, “Okay,” he said, his voice still as gentle as before. And then he tore the page clean out of his sketchbook. “Here.” 

Evan returned Connor’s smile, if a bit nervously. “Thanks, Connor.” 

“Anytime, Evan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all!! Check out this fan art my wonderful, amazing significant other drew that goes with this chapter: https://twofriendssittinginatree.tumblr.com/post/170827276670/two-friends-true-friends-fanart-by-my-amazing


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jared is late for class. (Jared POV chapter, ehehehe)

Jared woke to the sound of his emergency alarm—And alarm he needed, because he set a different alarm every night, in case he ever forgot to set his alarm (which happened more frequently than he cared to admit). He had the emergency alarm set for 9 AM every morning, which usually got him out of bed on time, regardless of what he had to do that day. 

That morning, he had a 9:30 AM class, so he was, predictably, running late. _Shit._ Before hopping out of bed, he glanced at the snoring lump next to him, and the reason he’d forgotten to set his alarm the night before—Patrick. Jared didn’t like to be sappy, but being late to class was honestly worth it to spend time with Patrick. He rolled his eyes at himself and shimmied out of bed. He tiptoed around the small dorm room, picking up clothes and trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to disturb Patrick. (Jared wasn’t sure when he learned common courtesy, but he guessed it was probably around the same time that he started referring to Patrick as his boyfriend, and not as a boy who he sometimes let pay for dinner.)

Before he left, he grabbed a sticky note and a pen and scribbled out a quick note— _Had to go to class, I’ll be back around 11. XOXO, Jared_ —and stuck the note onto Patrick’s forehead as gently as he could while making sure it actually stuck. 

Then he was out the door and power walking to his class. It was 9:15…If he hurried, he almost had time for Starbucks before class. _Do I even have money for Starbucks right now?_ Followed quickly by: _I should call my mom and ask for some cash._

Jared paused in front of the Starbucks for a moment, inhaling the rich scent of a coffee, and then sighed. He really needed to stop spending so much money on coffee. Also, he was already running late to class. _Get it together, Kleinman._ He picked up his pace, but despite hoofing it the rest of the way to class, he was still a few minutes late. Normally, he wouldn’t care too much—he’d accepted a long time ago that he was just always going to be a few minutes late to everything—but he did actually like the class: History of Jazz. 

Okay, so maybe he initially picked it because of jazz inspired memes, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t genuinely enjoy it. The professor, who insisted that everyone call her by her first name, Charlie, was super chill and actually had a sense of humor. She made Jared glad that he’d picked a music school for college. His parents had been surprised when he hadn’t opted for studying computer science, but he’d always had an affinity for the intersection of technology and music. He wanted to produce albums, and sound engineering was a lot more than music at that point, it was a science.

He slid into a seat near the back of the class, hoping he wouldn’t get called out for being late, but Charlie noticed him as soon as he opened the door. “Nice of you to join us, Jared,” she quipped. 

“Sorry, Charlie, my alarm didn’t go off.” Not a total lie, he just left out that the only reason it didn’t go off was because he forgot to set it in the first place.

“Does it _ever_ go off?” Charlie raised an eyebrow.

Jared huffed. “Okay, I get it, I’ll show up on time in the future.”

“Good,” Charlie smiled. “I know I’m pretty casual, but I still expect some respect.”

Jared nodded and pulled his laptop out of his bag to start taking notes. Charlie launched into a lecture on the difference between jazz and blues, and how the different styles evolved together, and when and how they diverged. Jared was semi-interested, but as much as he enjoyed the class, he couldn’t help his attention wandering a little. He pulled his phone out under the desk, and shot a text to Evan.

 

**To Evan:** yo

**From Evan:** Hey 

**To Evan:** Still gay for Connor?

**From Evan:** Jared

**To Evan:** I’ll take that as a yes… 

**To Evan:** When are you gonna do something about it?

**From Evan:** I told you, he has a boyfriend now

**To Evan:** A boyfriend who clearly sucks

**From Evan:** Are you suggesting I try to get Connor to cheat on his boyfriend with me?

**To Evan:** You said it, not me.

 

Jared glanced back up at Charlie. Her power point had changed to a list of all the names of all the students in the class, in pairs. “I know I mentioned this on the first day, but you have a research project this semester, and I’ve decided to randomly assign you partners to work on it. I’m going to give you some time soon to meet with your partner and discuss what you want to research.”

 

**To Evan:** Gotta go.

 

Jared slid his phone back into his backpack and looked at the list of names. He found his in the middle, next to the name _Zoe Murphy._ There was something vaguely familiar about that name, but he couldn’t place it. He shrugged—it was probably nothing.

Charlie was still lecturing. “I want you to pick some aspect of jazz music to go in depth on, whether you want to go into the theory of it, or modern jazz, or even a profile on a specific jazz artist. It can really be anything,” Charlie grinned, “I want you to be creative. Now get to it!”

Jared stood and scanned the classroom, looking for a girl who looked like her name might be Zoe, but before he could, someone came up to him. She had long brown hair, green eyes, and a smattering of freckles.

“Jared, right?” Zoe asked, putting out her hand. “I’m Zoe Murphy.”

“Nice to meet you,” he gave her his best smarmy grin, and took her hand. 

“So,” she started, clearly trying not to scowl at him, and sliding into the seat next to him. “What should we do our project on?”

Jared shrugged. “I dunno, do you have any ideas?”

“I like contemporary jazz,” Zoe floated, uncertainly. “I was thinking it would be cool to look at where jazz is now, rather than the history of it. I was in jazz band in high school, and we always played the standards, but I always thought modern jazz was a lot better. What do you think?”

Jared nodded. “Yeah, I think that would be great.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, we could mention the memes.” Jared wore a shit eating grin. 

Zoe groaned. “Seriously?” 

“What?” 

“Memes?” Zoe gave him a look that said: _c’mon, really?_

“Memes are a valid form of media interaction,” Jared argued. “I think that taking into account the societal views of jazz and what it represents is important. In the 20s, jazz was the sound of rebellion and social change. Now, we think of jazz and we think of the ‘standards’ like you said, and memes, which represent the voice of the youth, just in a completely different way from the jazz of the 20s.”

Zoe looked surprised and maybe a little impressed. “Touché, Kleinman.”

“Does that mean I can talk about memes?” Jared asked hopefully.

“Fine,” Zoe shook her head in what Jared hoped was an amused sort of exasperation.

“Want to meet up next week to do some research and stuff?” Jared asked. “We only have 5 minutes left of class.”

Zoe nodded. “Sure.”

“Let’s meet at the Starbucks down the street, so we can get coffee first. We can go to the library together, from there.” 

Zoe rolled her eyes, but complied. “Fine.” 

Jared grinned. “Awesome.” 


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wyatt's friend, Rainbow, has a party. Connor brings Evan.

Evan vibrated with anxiety. It was a few days before Halloween, and he’d expected to be spending his night reading, but he’d ended up in the back of Connor’s car, on his way to a Halloween party, where he wouldn’t know anyone. Likely, there would be drinking and maybe even some drugs and Evan really didn’t want to deal with that. But Connor had asked if he would come, told him that he really didn’t want to be alone, and Evan didn't have the heart to say no, even if technically Connor wouldn’t be alone. It was Wyatt’s friend’s party, after all. Wyatt didn’t seem thrilled when Connor announced that he was bringing Evan along, too, but he didn’t put up too much of a fight. 

Which is why the three of them sat in uncomfortable, tense silence as Connor drove them to some crack house on the other side of the city.

“You know,” Wyatt remarked snidely, “We could’ve just taken my bike. It would’ve been faster.”

“I wanted Evan to come,” Connor responded, not taking his eyes off the road. “Couldn’t have brought him on your bike.” 

“That’s true,” Wyatt said in a saccharine tone, “And we wouldn’t want to leave sweet Evan out.” He sounded fake, but Connor didn’t look bothered.

Evan got the impression that Wyatt was trying really hard not to upset Connor, which confused Evan because Wyatt didn’t seem to care too much about that before. _Maybe they’re having problems_ , he thought a little too hopefully. _Don’t be selfish. Connor deserves to be happy,_ Evan scolded himself. He didn’t let himself wonder if Wyatt was actually making Connor happy or not. 

“So, w-w-w-whose party is this a-a-a-again?” Evan asked quietly.

“My friend, Rainbow. She’s great. She just got a new tattoo, and I can’t wait to see it.” 

Evan nodded and leaned back against the seat. “Cool.”

The music was already blaring when they arrived, they could hear it from the bottom floor of the apartment complex; the party was in full swing. _Oh great,_ Evan thought, his anxiety already starting to spike, _We’re late._  

The apartment was small, although for a probably broke twenty-something's apartment it was relatively spacious. It was also cramped full of strangers, and Evan immediately wanted to leave, but Connor pushed him forward. Simply the warmth of Connor’s hands on his shoulders calmed Evan just enough that he didn’t feel like he was about to explode.

Wyatt, of course, immediately disappeared into the crowd, leaving Connor and Evan on their own. 

“I knew this would happen,” Connor rolled his eyes.

“Why did he even invite you, if he was just going to abandon you?” Evan wrinkled his nose.

Connor shrugged. “Don’t ask me.”

Evan cleared his throat, trying to ignore how hard it was to breathe when the crowd closed in on them. _This is why I don’t go to parties._

Connor must’ve noticed because he pulled Evan in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s get you some water.”

Evan nodded and let Connor guide him toward the kitchen, which was blessedly empty. There was a stack of red solo cups on the counter. Connor grabbed two and filled them both with tap water from the sink.

“Here,” he said with a small smile, handing one of the cups to Evan. 

Evan took the cup gratefully, and took a long gulp of water. “Thanks,” he said, setting the cup down on the counter.

“Nope,” Connor chuckled, and picked up Evan’s cup. “Never leave your cup unattended at a party.”

Evan blushed at his ignorance and took his cup back from Connor. “Sorry.”

“Hey, I can’t imagine you’ve been to very many parties,” Connor shrugged.

Evan almost laughed. “What gave it away?”

Connor rolled his eyes in what Evan imagined was affectionate exasperation, and turned toward a sliding glass door that lead out to a small balcony. “Why don’t we take our drinks,” he wiggled his eyebrows, like they were holding alcohol instead of tap water, “outside.”

Evan swallowed a giggle and followed Connor to the door. It slid open easily and they stepped out into the cool evening air. Though the sun had already dropped behind the horizon, but it wasn’t quite dark yet. The first of the stars had only just started to poke through.

Connor leaned against the railing and looked up at the darkening sky. “Nice night, huh?” he said softly. 

Evan nodded. “Yeah.” 

“I’m sorry I dragged you to this stupid party,” Connor said, eyes glued to a sliver of moon peeking out from behind a cloud. “And I’m sorry about Wyatt.” 

“Hey, it’s not so bad,” Evan shrugged. “It’s a lot quieter out here. And if I wasn’t here, then you’d be alone here, and I’m sure that would be no fun.”

Connor smiled. “That’s true.”

“Can-Can I, uh,” Evan stuttered. “Can I ask you a question?” 

Connor raised an eyebrow, but nodded. 

“Why, um,” Evan sighed, and looked away, out over the lights of the city. “Why are you dating Wyatt?” Evan blurted.

Connor tensed, and Evan’s stomach dropped. _Why did you say that, you idiot?_

“He’s really not that bad, honestly. It’s not like I was must better than him when we first met,” Connor sighed. “And it’s better than being alone, I guess.”

Connor didn’t say anything after that, and Evan decided not to push his luck any farther. He was just glad that Connor hadn’t been offended by his probably overly personal question. He took another sip of his water and glanced up toward the stars. It was fully dark now.

“The stars are nice,” Evan managed, trying to ignore the frown Connor was wearing.

“Yeah,” Connor nodded. “Y’know, when I was a kid, my dad bought me a telescope.”

“Really?” Evan wouldn’t have pegged Connor for a space kid, but looking at him in the starlight, it seemed to make sense.

“Totally,” Connor grinned. “I loved that thing, but that was back when my dad and I still got along.”

“Do you still have it?”

Connor shook his head, his smile falling. “No, I…Broke it, when I was fourteen.”

“Oh…” Evan fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “Sorry, I didn’t mean, to…y’know…bring all that stuff up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Connor shrugged. “It’s not your fault that my adolescence was hallmarked by screaming matches with my father.” 

Evan nodded, but didn’t say anything. What was he supposed to say? Anything he could possibly say seemed like it could be taken the wrong way. He didn’t want to ruin Connor’s night anymore than he probably already had. 

“Do you want me to teach you some constellations?” Connor said abruptly.

Evan blinked twice. “O-Okay.” Evan knew a few constellations—the big dipper and Orion’s belt, but not much more than that. Evan took a step forward to stand next to Connor, so their shoulders brushed. 

Connor pointed to a few stars to the left of Orion’s belt. “That’s Gemini, the twins.” It took Evan a moment of looking at them to make out the stick figures of two people, but he got there eventually. Connor pointed to a few more constellations, but Evan wasn’t entirely paying attention. He was more focused on the way Connor’s eyes reflected the pale starlight, and his excited smile as he pointed to more and more groups of stars. 

“Oh, look, you can see Betelgeuse,” Connor pointed to an especially bright star. “It’s such a clear night.” 

Evan nodded, “Yeah. It’s beautiful out.” But he was looking at Connor.

Connor turned to face Evan, eyes still shining. With Connor facing him, Evan was suddenly hyperaware of how close Connor was, close enough that Evan could feel the heat of Connor’s breath on his skin. “You, uh,” Evan’s voice was barely a whisper. “You sure know a lot of constellations.” 

“Yeah,” Connor said softly, not taking his eyes off of Evan.

Evan swallowed, his eyes trailing over Connor’s face—his piercing blue eyes, the red on his cheeks and the tip of his nose from the cold, the mole on his chin—his gaze lingered longest on Connor’s lips, pink and bowed and beautiful.  _Kiss him_ , he thought, and before he knew what he was doing, he was leaning in, and…Connor was leaning in, too.

Evan’s heart pounded in his chest as he got closer and closer to Connor’s lips…He let his eyes slide shut, ready to give himself fully to the kiss.

“There you fucking are!” Wyatt’s loud voice came from inside.

Evan’s eyes snapped open as reality came crashing in. He jumped back from Connor, already feeling his cheeks start to burn. _He has a boyfriend, you idiot._  

“C’mon, assholes, let’s go,” Wyatt yelled. He sounded drunk.

“We should,” Connor looked around and cleared his throat awkwardly, blatantly avoiding eye contact. “We should go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late! It was a holiday here, so I totally forgot that yesterday was Monday.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan's freaking out a tad.

It was the morning after the party, two days before Halloween, and Evan wasn’t entirely sure the night before hadn’t been a dream. Well, no, if it had been a dream, he would’ve actually kissed Connor, instead of being rudely interrupted by Connor’s very real boyfriend.

It was a Saturday—Halloween was on a Monday, unfortunately—and Evan was supposed to meet with Caitlyn later to study for midterms, but Evan didn’t think he’d be able to focus on anything other than his almost kiss with Connor. _Is that even a thing?_ _An ‘almost-kiss’?_ And was Evan hallucinating or was Connor really leaning in to reciprocate the kiss? _No, of course not. Connor has a boyfriend._  

Still.

Evan sat at his desk, trimming his bonsai, pretending to be more focused than he actually was, hoping that Connor, who was listening to music and staring at the ceiling, wouldn’t be able to sense his anxiety. Despite the irrationality of it, Evan couldn’t shake the thought that Connor would be able to hear the way his heart was hammering in his chest.

A part of Evan wished he’d kissed Connor the night before, even if Connor had immediately pushed him away, because at least then he would know what it was like to kiss Connor Murphy, instead of having to wonder and imagine and hope. Of course, it probably would’ve completely ruined their friendship, so it was only a small part of him that wished they’d actually kissed.

Evan sighed, put down his clippers, and pulled out his phone. 12:35. He was meant to meet Caitlyn at 1:15. It wouldn’t be too strange if he left now. Maybe he’d take the long way to the library and enjoy the fresh air, maybe it would clear his head. He shoved his phone back in his pocket, stood up, grabbed his backpack, and cleared his throat to get Connor’s attention.

Connor sat up and pulled out an earbud. “What’s up?” 

“I’m going to go study with Caitlyn. I’ll see you later,” Evan said, staring at the floor.

Connor nodded. “Okay, have fun, I guess.” Connor didn’t seem to care where Evan was going, as he immediately put his earbud back in and resumed staring at the ceiling.

Evan rolled his eyes and head for the door. He called out a goodbye over his shoulder as he walked out, but he was pretty sure that Connor couldn’t hear him over his music. He didn’t linger in the common space, not wanting to chance a run-in with any of their other roommates, making it out to the courtyard as fast he could. Once in the courtyard, he slowed down. He didn’t want to be too early to meet Caitlyn. Being too early was just as weird as being late.

He made it about halfway to the library before his anxious thoughts got the better of him, and he stopped. He pulled out his phone and dialed Jared’s number before he could convince himself not to.

“Hey, Tree Boy,” Jared greeted him warmly. “What’s up?”

“I’m stressed out,” Evan said, not bothering to mask the anxiety and frustration in his tone.

“You’re always stressed out,” Jared quipped. 

“I almost kissed Connor last night.” 

“Almost?”

“We got interrupted,” Evan hesitated. “By his boyfriend.” 

“Wow, yikes,” Jared said sympathetically. 

“But I think Connor might’ve also leaned in?” Evan shook his head. “But I don’t know, and I don’t know how to bring it up.”

“That’s a bit of a pickle,” Jared clicked his teeth. “So, just to clarify, he’s still with Wyatt?”

“Yeah,” Evan replied bitterly. “Even after Wyatt got drunk at the party last night.”

“Oh, boy.”

“There was…a lot of yelling, from both of them.”

“And they’re still together?” Jared seemed incredulous.

“Apparently.” Evan hadn’t actually asked Connor, but it’s not like they’d broken up at the party, or anything. And Evan would imagine that Connor would be more upset if he broke up with his boyfriend.

“Wow.”

“I know.” Evan groaned. “So what do I do? Do I address that elephant in the room? Do I talk to Connor about the almost-kiss?” 

“I think you should wait to see if they break up,” Jared said, trying to sound more knowledgeable than he actually was. “You don’t want to feel like you broke them up, or seem like a homewrecker.”

“Good point,” Evan pursed his lips. “Thanks.” 

“I’d love to chat more,” and Evan knew what was coming, “but I gotta meet with my partner for that jazz project.” 

“Oh, have fun?” Evan couldn’t remember if Jared liked his partner or not.

“Not likely,” Jared said petulantly, “She doesn’t think I’m funny.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “No one thinks you’re funny." 

“Wow, harsh, dude.” But Jared was laughing. “Talk to you later.” 

“Bye.” Evan shoved his phone in his pocket and made his way to the library, where Caitlyn was already working. 

“Hi,” he said, sliding into his seat.

“Hey.” She didn’t look up from her laptop, which was fine with Evan. He pulled out his essay assignment and a notebook (he liked to handwrite his rough drafts), and then put his head down on the table.

That’s when Caitlyn looked up.

“You alright?”

“Just tired.” Evan didn’t move his head.

“Right.” Caitlyn sounded skeptical, and then Evan heard the sound of her laptop clicking. “Tell Auntie Caitlyn all about it.”

Evan looked up with a sigh. “Okay, well, I don’t want this to be weird, because we were a thing or whatever, but I—”

“You like Connor.” Caitlyn cut him off matter-of-factly.

“How did you know?” 

Caitlyn snorted. “C’mon, I’m not blind. I see the way you two are around each other.”

Evan wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but he elected to ignore it. “And you’re…cool with that?” 

“Hey, don’t flatter yourself,” Caitlyn chuckled good naturedly. “You’re not _that_ adorable, only mostly adorable.”

Evan blushed. “T-Thanks.”

“But really, I’m totally cool.” She sounded like she meant it. “We’re friends. I want you to be happy.” 

Evan rolled his eyes. “Fat chance there.”

“Why not?” Caitlyn cocked her head to the side. “Have you seen the way Connor looks at you?”

“He has a boyfriend,” Evan said sharply. He thought he’d mentioned Wyatt to Caitlyn before, but it must’ve slipped his mind.

“Oh.”

“His name is Wyatt and I hate him.”

Caitlyn laughed. “Jealous much?”

“No, he’s actually The Worst,” Evan said emphatically. “I mean, I definitely am jealous, too, but still.” 

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “Alright, well failing your assignments doesn’t seem like the best course of action here.”

Evan hung his head in his hands. “I know.”

“And if Wyatt is as bad as you say, who knows, maybe Connor will wise up and dump him sooner than you think.”

Evan lowered his head back onto the table. _Like I said before: Fat. Chance._


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor has a talk with Wyatt. Warning for some mild violence and some drug use.

It was the first of November, a Tuesday, and Connor wanted nothing more than to stay in his bed all day—especially tempting given that the only class he had that day was with Professor Price, AKA the mostly overly peppy man Connor had ever met. No one should be that exited about anything. Ever. And especially not before noon. However, staying in his dorm room meant a good chance of hanging out with Evan, and he really couldn’t handle that. He’d been very carefully avoiding Evan since Friday night…since the party…since they’d almost kissed. Mostly that meant just listening to his music and staring at the ceiling and blaming it on the depression, so Evan wouldn’t be anxious about it.

So, in an effort to avoid Evan, he’d gone to class, and was now sitting on a park bench, listening to music, trying to avoid thinking about his life.

He was going to breakup with Wyatt. Probably. Maybe. If not because he still had feelings for Evan—he was stupid to think he could move on that easily—then because of what happened at the party. Wyatt was always a bit of jerk—that was probably why Connor picked him, if he was honest with himself. Wyatt reminded Connor of himself, and Friday night was no exception. It’s just undeniably bad when your boyfriend drags you to a party, abandons you at said party, shows up again an hour later totally shitfaced, and starts yelling at you for…Something. Connor honestly didn’t know, but he sure as hell yelled back.

Of course, Wyatt had texted Connor the next morning like nothing had ever happened, and Connor genuinely didn’t know if Wyatt had actually been drunk enough to forget, or if he was just trying to pretend it never happened. That alone was probably enough to end a month and a half long relationship, if Connor was honest with himself. He _should_ break up with Wyatt.

The problem was he was too chickenshit to do it. He couldn’t help wondering if he’d regret it. _What if I’m throwing away the one chance I have for something real?_ He knew he wasn’t exactly the most lovable person in the world. Was it smart to give up a chance because he wasn’t over a boy who would never love him back anyway?

_He wanted to kiss you, too._

But did he? Or did he just get caught up in the moment? What if he would’ve leaned in no matter who he was standing on the balcony with? What if he only leaned in because Connor was leaning in and he was too polite to back off? 

Connor never used to overthink things so much. _Maybe Evan is rubbing off on me._ It seemed plausible, given they’d been friends for a year already. Doctor Marshall would probably say it was actually because Connor hadn’t cared so much about something in a long time, and then Connor would turn red, but not deny it.

For awhile, he’d tried to avoid the topic of his love life with Doctor Marshall, but when he started dating Wyatt, it seemed like something people were supposed to talk to their therapists about. Connor got the feeling that Doctor Marshall didn’t approve of Wyatt (something about “self destructive tendencies”), but she’d been surprisingly impartial when he’d brought up the possibly of dumping Wyatt during their weekly session on Monday. She told Connor to put his own mental health first, and do whatever felt right for his mental health—like Connor Murphy was known for making the “right” decision for his mental health.

Connor glanced down at his phone. It was 4:17, so Wyatt would be done with classes, but he wouldn’t start work until around 6. If he was going to break things off, it was probably best to do it when Wyatt had a place to be—so Connor would have an eventual out.

 

**New Message to Wyatt:** hey can I come over?

**New Message from Wyatt:** sure thing, babe

 

It took Connor about ten minutes to get to Wyatt’s apartment. Wyatt wore artfully ripped jeans, as usual, and a Coachella t shirt, and smelled like Smirnoff Ice and cigarette smoke. Connor had to bite his cheek to keep from greeting him with a look of disgust.

“Hey, babe,” Wyatt greeted with a peck on the lips. 

“Hey,” Connor said quietly. “How were your classes?” 

Wyatt guided Connor into his apartment and sat him on the couch. “Eh, boring.” 

Connor nodded. “That sucks.”

“What about you?” Wyatt leaned back. “You had that annoying Ethics professor today, right?” 

“Yeah,” Connor nodded. He was kind of impressed that Wyatt remembered his schedule. _Maybe I shouldn’t breakup with him. He_ does _care_.

“Then I bet you’d like a smoke,” Wyatt said jumping up from the couch. “I just bought some weed last night.”

Connor didn’t say anything. He watched silently as Wyatt rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a familiar looking Ziploc bag. For a moment, Connor considered taking a hit. _One hit won’t kill me_.

“You a bong guy?” Wyatt asked, coming back to the couch with a purple bong.

“Uh.” _Just one hit…_ Connor almost picked up the bong, even extended his fingers just slightly, then he heard Zoe’s voice in his head. “ _I want you to help yourself, Connor.”_ Connor froze. “No, no, no. I can’t. I told you, I don’t smoke anymore.” He wasn’t sure if he was talking to Wyatt or himself. 

“C’mon…One hit.” 

Connor stood up from the couch and crossed his arms. “No, I can’t.” 

Wyatt sighed. “Fine.” 

“And, I think,” Connor took a deep breath. “I think we should break up.”

Wyatt’s jaw clenched. “What?!” 

“I just don’t think I should be with someone who still uses,” Connor said, trying not to make eye contact. 

Wyatt stood slowly, hands already balled into fists. “So, I’m not good enough for you, is that what you’re saying?”

“What?” Connor shook his head. “No, no, Wyatt, you’re, y’know, a great guy. But I don’t think we’re great together.”

“You’re a dick,” Wyatt sneered, and turned to pick up the bong.

“Wh—Wyatt, c’mon,” Connor took a step forward. “It doesn’t have to be like this. We-We could still be friends.” 

Wyatt scoffed. “No, thanks,” he bit out. “Just leave.”

“Wyatt—” Connor took another step towards Wyatt.

Wyatt swiveled around, eyes wild with anger, fist raised. “Get _out_.”

“Wyatt, I’m sorry. I just have to do what’s best for me,” Connor tried again. 

Wyatt didn’t hesitate before throwing his fist into Connor’s face, _hard._ Connor hit the ground cradling his left eye.

“I said, _get out_.” Wyatt growled.

Connor scrambled to his feet and out the door as fast has he could. Despite his shaking his hands and stuttering heartbeat, the residual adrenaline in his bloodstream, he felt…Good. He made it back to his shared dorm as the sun was beginning to set. He opened the door slowly, to see Evan sitting on his bed, reading. He shuffled in quietly, hoping Evan wouldn’t notice, but of course, Evan looked up almost as soon as Connor walked in.

“Hi, Connor!” Evan said brightly. 

“Hey,” Connor replied, suddenly realizing how ragged his voice sounded, probably from yelling.

Evan’s smile faded like a blown out candle. “What happened to your eye?”

“What?”

“You have a black eye, Connor.” Evan closed his book and stood up to examine Connor’s eye. “What the hell happened?” 

“I broke up with Wyatt,” Connor shrugged, trying to ignore how close Evan was to him. “He didn’t take it super well…”

“Oh my god, Connor,” Evan shook his head, “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

Evan raised an eyebrow. “You’re hands are shaking.”

Connor shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m really glad I ended things.” 

Evan tsked, “I’m getting you some ice.” Before Connor could stop him, Evan was already pulling out the first aid kit that his mom had put together for him and digging out a cold pack. He cracked it in a swift motion and pressed it gently against Connor’s eye.

“Thanks…” Connor said quietly, reaching up slowly to hold the cold pack himself.

Evan sighed, sat back down, and picked up his book.

“Hey,” Connor started, pulling Evan’s attention back to him. 

“Yeah?” 

Connor took a deep breath, attempting to gather all his courage. “About what happened at the party the other night…”

Evan furrowed his brow for a moment, before the gears turned and it clicked in his head. “Oh, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

Connor blinked rapidly, but couldn’t find it in him to say anything. It felt like all the air had been punched out of his lungs. _Apologize? For almost kissing him?_

“Everything is all good here. You have nothing to worry about.” Evan gave Connor a reassuring smile, and went back to his book.

“Nothing to worry about,” Connor echoed, slowly sitting down on his bed. “Right.” 


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan is a mess. (Sorry this is late! I spent last night standing in the rain waiting to meet Kevin Clay).

Evan rested his head in his hands as he watched the clock above the whiteboard slowly tick along. He hated this part of class, when everyone else shared their poems, and he just sat and listened. Well, listened and wished he wasn’t so afraid to speak in class. Just the thought of raising his hand to share made his heart race and his head spin. It was a shame, really, because the professor had given him glowing feedback on the poems he’d turned in, and she really wanted him to share.

He pulled his eyes from the clock and tried to focus on the MFA student who was reading a poem about meaningless sex and a cigarette habit. Apparently, that was the kind of poetry that was considered “high art” among the writers in the class. Evan thought it was kind of pretentious and void of anything real. But maybe he just didn’t have the life experience to understand it. Regardless, it was part of the class to give feedback to the people who shared, so he tried to pick out at least one line he liked. It was easier said than done, and not just because he didn’t like the poem.

Evan has been having trouble focusing for the past week and a half, ever since Connor had broken up with Wyatt. He thought it would be a relief, but Connor was sad and mopey and despite Evan’s hatred of Wyatt, he wanted Connor to be happy.

_God, love sucks._

At least Jared was happy. Actually, that was an understatement. Jared was _ecstatic,_ over the moon, insanely, absurdly happy. He kept telling Evan that it was “time to make a move” and tell Connor how he felt. Apparently, in Jared’s world, Connor dumping Wyatt meant that he must be ready to date someone new—Connor broke things off, after all; it’s not like _he_ got dumped. Evan thought Jared was being a little black and white about things. Just because Connor did the dumping, didn’t mean he didn’t still care about Wyatt. 

Especially if his recent morose mood was anything to go by.

Evan did want to talk to Connor about his feelings, he just wanted to make sure that he gave Connor time to move on from Wyatt. The last thing he wanted was to be a rebound. So, he decided to wait at least a month. Although, in a month, Evan realized, it would be finals, and finals is a terrible time to confess your feelings to someone. So maybe he’d wait two months…Or, or three months. _C’mon, you’re just being a chicken, Hansen. Grow a damn spine._    

He’d been so ready to tell Connor how he felt before he knew about Wyatt. He’d actually started to tell him. But, then, that was after a summer spent psyching himself up, and he’d kind of lost that. Plus, there was the almost-kiss, and the nagging feeling that if Connor wanted to be with him, he would’ve brought up the almost-kiss by now. Connor was pretty much pretending that it never happened, which had to mean that he wanted to forget that night. Hell, Connor hadn’t even brought up the stargazing thing again. The only thing Connor had said about the party was an attempt to apologize for fighting with Wyatt in the car on the way back from the party. Evan appreciated that Connor wanted to make amends for how uncomfortable that whole thing had been for Evan, but Evan didn’t feel like it was Connor who owed him an apology. Connor was just fighting back.

“Alright, it’s three minutes ‘till class ends, so I think we have time for one more reader,” the professor said, as yet another edgy poet finished his submission. “Evan? Do you want to read?”

Evan froze. “Uh.”

“C’mon, this is a safe space. No need to feel nervous.”

 Evan swallowed hard, shuffling the papers in front of him, searching frantically for the right one to read. “S-S-Sure.” He read quickly, and nervously, wishing he could read as smoothly and well as the other students who had read.

 

 

_I can’t help but notice_

_The color in your eyes_

_An island in a swirling sea_

_and I’m swept away_

_swept away with the tide_

_I can’t help but notice_

_The curve of your smile_

_Your lips seem soft_

_I think I would kiss you_

_If you’d let me_

_I can’t help but notice_

_When you look at me_

_You run a hand through your hair_

_And I pray you don’t see_

_How I’m looking back_

_I can’t help but notice_

_Your laughter is a song_

_And I’d dance all night long_

_If the music didn’t stop_

_I can’t help but notice_

_Every part of you._

_The mole on your cheek,_

_The scars on your arm,_

_The chips in your fingernail polish_

_I can’t help but notice_

_How far away you are_

_Even when you sit next to me_

_Close enough to touch_

 

When Evan finished, he was greeted with mostly silence, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. The professor was grinning. Evan felt…exhilarated, he realized, as he caught his breath and processed what had happened. No one besides his professor had ever read his poetry before. Now the whole class had heard a genuine expression of his feelings for Connor. It was a weird feeling.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, before the class was over and he was rushing out, barely hearing the professor’s parting words: “Remember, your midterm reflections are due next week.”

Evan wandered across campus slowly, dreading the moment when he crossed the threshold of his dorm room and he would once again be confronted by the image of Connor staring at the ceiling and listening to music. It was almost like they’d gone back to the way things were when they first met, the year before. Connor’s walls were back up for some reason, and Evan couldn’t get him to open back up.

Instead of going back to the room, he sat on a bench in the courtyard and called Jared—not a great place to turn to for solace, but better than nothing.

“’Sup Nerd?” Jared greeted.

“Hi.” 

“No, seriously, what’s up?” Jared rephrased. “And make it quick. I have another meeting for the jazz project. This girl is kind of an over achiever.”

“Ah, no more of your patented ‘put the whole thing off until the night before it’s due, and then somehow bang out an A’ strategy?” Evan chuckled.

“Sadly, no.”

“Well,” Evan sighed. “I won’t keep you. I just don’t want to go back to my room.”

“Connor still being, er, grumpy?”

Evan laughed humorlessly. “That’s one way of putting it.” 

“You just gotta kiss him. That’ll turn his frown upside down.” 

Evan snorted. “Oh, yeah, that’s sounds like a phenomenal idea.”

“Fine, fine,” Jared acquiesced. “Maybe you just need to focus on something else for awhile. Give him time to process. Like, your classes or whatever.”

“I’m plenty focused on my classes,” Evan retorted. “I just read a poem aloud to my whole poetry class.”

“Holy shit, dude,” Jared sounded shocked. “I’m impressed. That’s huge for you.”

“I mean, the professor totally pressured me into it, and I'm stumbled over my words the whole time, but…” Evan trailed off. “Yeah.”

“Hey, give yourself this win.” 

Evan nodded. “You’re right.”

“Look, I’d love to talk more, but I’m late.” Jared sounded stressed. “Zoe hates it when I’m late.”

“Okay, good luck with the project.” 

“Talk to you later.” And then Jared was gone.

Evan sighed. Jared was right. He just needed to give Connor time to process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may or may not be a product of my salt about some of the poetry workshops I've taken as a creative writing major....


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jared comes to a startling realization.

Jared felt bad having to hang up on Evan already, but he really didn’t want Zoe to chew him out when he showed up at their usual meeting place—a coffee shop down the street from the school library—and Evan was just sort of complaining, anyway. So, he shoved his phone in his pocket and jogged the rest of the way to the coffee shop. He was only a little bit out of breath when he reached the coffee shop. Of course, Zoe was already there, a steaming grande latte on the table in front of her. But instead of being focused on the work they had to do, she was on the phone. The one time Jared was on time, and she was on the phone. Jared shook his head, ordered his coffee, and then made his way over to her. 

“I know it hurts,” she said into the phone. “But you do have to move on.” 

Jared sat down as quietly as possible, immediately intrigued.

“Well, you chose a terrible way to move on.”

Jared raised an eyebrow. This could be interesting.

“Listen to me, Connor. You’ve come so far in the past year. And now you’re totally backsliding. This isn’t healthy.”

Jared wondered who Connor was. She clearly cared a lot about him.

“Because you’re my brother and I love you,” Zoe said, some of the force draining from her voice.

Jared froze…Her brother, Connor…Connor _Murphy?_ Surely, it couldn’t be Evan’s Connor Murphy. There was no way. But then, the name Zoe Murphy had been familiar to him, and that would explain it. _Oh my God._

“I gotta go,” Zoe sighed. “The guy I’m working with on that jazz project is actually on time for once.” Zoe hung up, and turned to Jared, who was staring at her with wide-eyes. “What?”

“You were,” Jared hesitated, keenly aware that there was a chance that he could be completely wrong about this, “On the phone with your brother?” 

“Yeah, so?”

“His name’s Connor?” 

“Why do you care?” Zoe snapped, and Jared realized he must’ve seemed sort of creepy to her.

“I, uh, might…know him,” Jared swallowed. “Or, rather, I might know _of_ him. I, at least, know _a_ Connor Murphy. But it could be a different Connor Murphy.”

“Murphy isn’t exactly an unusual last name,” Zoe shrugged. 

“That’s fair,” Jared acquiesced. “But humor me?”

“Fine.” Zoe sighed. “What do you want to know?” 

“What is your brother like? How old is he?” Jared asked, pushing his glasses up.

“He’s a year older than me. I don’t know him super well, because we only just started talking again about a year ago. He used to just scream at me all the time. But he’s working really hard to be better, and he’s getting help and stuff.”

Jared nodded along. “You don’t have to get personal or anything, but so far this all matches up with the Connor I know. What does he look like?”

“Tall and gangly, long hair, black painted nails, wears mostly black and dark grey, and big combat boots he got at the army surplus store.”

“I really think I know your brother, Zoe,” Jared said earnestly. 

“How?”

“I think he’s my best friend’s roommate.”

Zoe’s eyes widened. “Who—Who’s your best friend?”

“Evan Hansen. Anxious wreck. Wears a lot of blue.” 

“Oh my God,” Zoe’s jaw hit the table. “You’re _that_ Jared. Holy shit.”

Jared snorted. “Oh, God, you’ve heard of me?”

“Sometimes when Connor is going on and on about your friend Evan, your name comes up,” Zoe chuckled. “Not usually in a great light.”

“Wait,” Jared put a hand up. “Back up. Connor goes on and on about Evan?”

“It’s most of what he talks about,” Zoe shrugged. “He really needs to get over it.”

Jared blinked twice. “What?!” 

“He’s been pining over Evan for over a year at this point,” Zoe rolled her eyes. “It’s time to move on.”

“No, no, no it’s not,” Jared stammered. “Evan is really dense. Like _really_ , mind-bogglingly, tremendously dense. He didn’t even realize that he was in love with Connor until May, when Connor fell out of that tree.”

“Wait, what?” Now it was Zoe’s turn to look incredulous. “Evan is in love with Connor?”

“Uh, yeah!” Jared spoke with emphasis. “He’s been miserable ever since your brother decided to date that Wyatt guy.”

“You’re kidding,” Zoe’s incredulousness didn’t wear off. “You’re absolutely fucking with me right now.”

“I swear I’m not.” Jared was almost laughing now. “Scouts honor.” 

“I don’t believe for a second that you were a boy scout,” Zoe quipped. “But let’s say I believe you about everything else. So what?”

“So what?” Jared scoffed. “So we can do something to help them, you know, get their heads out of their asses.”

Zoe raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are you proposing?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Jared wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, “Something devious to get them to admit their feelings.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Zoe deadpanned. “Let’s just tell them.” 

“Oh yeah,” Jared scoffed, “I’m gonna tell Evan that I was talking about him behind his back to Connor’s sister. Sounds like a fantastic plan.” 

Zoe sighed. “Then maybe we should just leave things alone? It’s not really any of our business anyways.”

“Don’t you want your brother to be happy?” Jared slid his glasses off his nose and wiped the lenses clean on his t-shirt. 

“Of course.” Zoe nodded and took a sip of her drink.

“And I want my friend to be happy. So, it’s our responsibility, to help them, you know,” Jared grinned, putting his glasses back on. “Make each other happy.”

“Oh, gross!” Zoe almost yelled. “That’s my _brother_ , you freak.”

Jared smirked. “My point still stands, though.”

Zoe sighed again. “I guess.”

“Thank you,” Jared rolled his eyes. “Finally.”

“But!” Zoe said sharply. “What the hell are we gonna do?”

“Haven’t figured that out yet,” Jared admitted. “Do you have any special skills that might come in handy?”

“What is this, a job interview?” 

“I’ll take that as a no.” Jared smirked again. 

“That’s not a no!” Zoe huffed. “I’m a younger sister. I have years of spying experience—and I know most of Connor’s passwords.” 

Jared’s smirk melted into a grin. Suddenly, he knew exactly what to do. “Excellent.”

 


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan is home for Thanksgiving

Evan sat cross-legged on his bed, laptop open, empty plate that once held leftover Chinese food in hand. Heidi hadn’t been able to get Thanksgiving off, or the Friday after. She said she’d be off on Saturday, but she’d also said she’d be home in time for dinner on Friday, and it was 7 PM on Friday, and Evan was eating leftover takeout alone. For the first time in a long time, Evan felt like he was back in high school, and he hated it. He knew he shouldn’t be angry with her. She was taking on extra hours to pay _his_ tuition and buy _his_ dinner…but it was Thanksgiving, or well, the day before was Thanksgiving.

And he was alone.

And, okay, it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t just that she wasn’t here. It was also that he was afraid to message Connor, since things were still sort of weird between them and he didn’t know why. He’d hoped that Connor would message him, but of course Connor hadn’t, and that just made Evan feel more alone. A chat window, with their last message, dated three weeks prior, flashed in front of him.

 

**To Connor** : _Hi._  

 

He deleted almost as soon as he’d typed it, and closed the chat window, instead opting to open a chat with Jared, who was online. 

 

**To Jared** : _Do you think I did something wrong?_

**From Jared:** What?

**To Jared:** _With Connor_  

**From Jared:** Ohhhh…Yeah, definitely not

**To Jared:** _Then what happened?_  

**From Jared:** I’m sure it’s nothing

 

Evan sighed. Jared didn’t get it. It couldn’t be “nothing” in Evan’s brain. Maybe it was nothing. But the thought that Evan had done something unforgivable, that Connor hated him, it was impossible to ignore. It ate away at him. _What if I said something wrong? What if I let him close me off again? What if the last year doesn’t matter anymore? What did I do?_

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of the front door opening and closing. His head snapped up.

 

**To Jared:** I think my mom’s home

 

Evan closed his laptop and shuffled down to the kitchen, where Heidi was already pulling out what was left of the Chinese takeout for her own dinner.

“Hey, Mom,” He greeted her, trying to put on a cheerful show for her. “How was work? Anything exciting?” 

“Oh, hey, Kiddo,” Heidi gave him a small smile, as she scooped her kung-pao chicken and jasmine rice onto a plate. “Long and busy.”

“Oh,” Evan’s attempt at excitement faltered. “That sucks.”

“What about you,” Heidi tried, popping her plate in the microwave. “What’s up with you? I feel like we haven’t talked in ages.”

Evan shrugged. “Not much…”

“C’mon,” Heidi sighed. “You’re young! There must be something interesting going on in your life! Or am I too old to “understand” what you’re going through?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “No, I…” Evan wasn’t actually sure what was stopping him from confiding in his mother. He looked up into her tired eyes and sighed. “I like Connor." 

Heidi raised an eyebrow. “Is this supposed to be news to me?”

Evan blanched. “What?” 

“I saw the look on your face when you got that birthday present from him…And all the times he called you or texted you over the summer, and your eyes lit up,” Heidi pulled her meal out of the microwave. “I’m old, I’m not blind.”

Evan’s cheeks went red. “Oh.” 

“So…Does he like you back?” Heidi asked hopefully.

Evan frowned and shook his head. “I don’t think so.” 

Heidi took a bite of chicken. “Well, then he’s a dummy.”

“You have to say that,” Evan laughed half-heartedly. “You’re my mom.”

“Nah, I mean that,” Heidi nodded, as if confirming what she’d said. She reached out and ruffled his hair. “Anyone who doesn’t see how great you are is a dummy.”

“If you say so,” Evan rolled his eyes. “But Connor’s been icing me out lately,” Evan blew out a long puff of air. “And I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Heidi hummed thoughtfully, stabbing her fork through a water chestnut. “Well, when did this ‘icing out’ start?”

“Right after he broke up with his boyfriend,” Evan said, trying not to let too much bitterness seep into his voice. “Ever since he dumped Wyatt, all he does is listen to music and stare at the wall, like he used to do, before we were friends.”

Heidi raised an eyebrow. “Maybe he’s just having a hard time with the breakup.”

“But _he_ broke up with _Wyatt_ ,” Evan insisted. “He should be fine!” 

“Sometimes people end things for reasons other than falling out of love,” Heidi said gently. “Just because Connor and Wyatt headed in different directions, doesn’t mean that Connor doesn’t care about him, and isn’t hurting.” 

Evan nodded. She did have a point, loathe as he was to admit it. “I guess.”

“I’m sure you did nothing wrong,” Heidi put a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “You’re just getting in your head about it.” 

Evan shrugged. “I mean, I know…I guess, it’s just been hard recently.”

Heidi nodded reassuringly. “Let me take this plate to the table, and we can talk all about it.” She paused, suddenly hesitant. “If you want.” 

“S-Sure.” Evan followed his mom to the kitchen table, and sat across from her as she ate her dinner. He sat in silence for a few seconds before she set down her fork and looked at him sideways.

“You have to talk, honey.”

Evan stuttered. “R-Right. Sorry. We don’t, uh, we don’t usually do this.”

Heidi frowned. “I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been the kind of mom who you could feel comfortable confiding in, but I promise, you can tell me anything.” She gave him another gentle smile. 

“Thanks, Mom.” Evan took a deep breathe, and then started in. “I’ve only been aware of my feelings since the start of the summer, but I think they were always there, right from the beginning of our friendship.” 

“Oh? So, are you Billy Crystal or Meg Ryan?” Heidi smirked. 

Evan blushed. “Mom!”

“Sorry, sorry,” she laughed. “Continue.”

“I’ve never felt like this before, and it scares me,” Evan admitted. “There were plenty of people who I thought that I liked, but it always turned out that I just wanted to be their friend…But it’s different with Connor.”

“Because you were already close friends when you realized you had feelings for him?” Heidi asked, pushing a chili to the edge of her plate.

“Yes,” Evan sighed, “But also because…I don’t know. It’s like, I look at him and my heart starts racing, but in a good way? I didn’t know that nervousness could be a good thing. And it’s weird, because I usually feel more comfortable around Connor than I’ve ever felt around anyone. But then sometimes he smiles at me, and I just feel like my legs are made of jelly.”

Heidi didn’t speak. She just listened quietly. 

“I’ve never…Thought that kind stuff about someone before,” Evan shrugged. “And I’m so scared of losing him. He’s one of my best friends.”

“I’ve never met Connor, but I do think he cares a lot about you,” Heidi put a gentle hand on Evan’s shoulder. “I don’t think you’ll lose him.”

Evan leaned into his mother’s touch. “I almost kissed him.”

Heidi raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah…He was, he was still with Wyatt. So, you know. I…We, I didn’t.” 

Heidi nodded again. “When was this?”

“About a month ago. Right before he broke up with Wyatt. What if that’s why he’s being so distant? What if it freaked him out?”

“I don’t think so, Kiddo.” She gently rubbed his arm.

“Mom…”

“Just, trust me, okay?” Heidi smiled that kind of all-knowing parent smile. 

“Okay.” Evan sighed. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome,” Heidi opened her arms, inviting him for a hug. 

Evan accepted her embrace eagerly. He always loved his mother’s hugs. There was never a time when he felt safer. “I love you, Mom." 

She held him tighter, and kissed the top of his head. “I love you, too.”


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor spends Thanksgiving with his family.

Connor sat on his bed, staring at a thick packet that Doctor Marshall had given him. The words glared up at him in bolded italics. **_Everything You Need To Know About ADHD_**. Apparently, it wasn’t enough that he had bipolar disorder. Oh no. According to Doctor Marshall, his anger stemmed from something called “Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria” which sounded like a bunch of alphabet soup to Connor, but was actually responsible for his quick temper.

_“People with ADHD are more sensitive. For some people, it manifests as anxiety and a desire to people please. For others, like yourself, it manifests as explosive anger.”_

Connor didn’t deny that what Doctor Marshall said made sense, but it was a strange feeling, being diagnosed with something new. Before, he’d thought that the bipolar was the explanation, and that was easy and simple. A two word answer to the question “what the hell is wrong with me?” which had plagued him for years. And suddenly…It was complicated again. 

“Hey, freak,” Zoe’s voice cut through Connor’s thoughts. “What’s that?” 

“Way to knock,” Connor shoved the packet under his blankets.

Zoe rolled her eyes. “Look, I just came up here to warn you that I overheard Dad talking, and I think he wants to talk to you.”

Connor’s stomach churned. “He wants to talk to me? Or yell at me?”

“Relax, dude,” Zoe sat next to Connor on the bed. “He seemed calm. I think he wants to like, actually talk.” 

“Huh.” Connor wasn’t sure he was happy about that. He still held a lot of anger towards his father; he couldn’t just let that go.

“Anyways, what’s that?” Zoe pointed to the packet.

Connor shoved it under his pillow. “Just stuff from Doctor Marshall. Nothing important.” 

Zoe gave Connor a look that said: _I don’t believe you._ “Okay, whatever.”

“So…What’s up?”

Zoe brightened, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “We’re almost done with the jazz project, and I think this guy and I are gonna be good friends.”

Connor returned Zoe’s easy smile. “That’s great, Zoe.” 

“What about you?” Zoe raised an eyebrow questioningly. “How are things?”

“Uh,” Connor hesitated. “You mean besides the fact that I’m never gonna be able to get over a boy who’ll never love me back?”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“I’m gay, it’s what we do.”

Zoe snorted. “I’m gay, too, dumbass.” 

“Fair,” Connor shrugged. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“I think you should give Evan a chance,” Zoe said matter of factly.

“ _What?”_ Connor scoffed. “Weren’t you the one who told me to get over him?”

Zoe nodded sheepishly. “I....I think I was wrong.”

“This is a first.” Connor smiled gently. 

“Look, I know you’ve been icing him out lately, but I think you should think about not doing that anymore,” Zoe shrugged. “He’s still your friend.”

“Yeah…” Connor knew Zoe was right, but he just wasn’t sure he could talk to Evan without it hurting. 

“And I don’t think you should be so convinced that he doesn’t feel the same way about you,” Zoe said slowly and deliberately.

“Zoe, he told me I didn’t have to apologize for almost kissing him,” Connor deadpanned. “I think that says it all.”

Zoe sighed. “I don’t know, I think that could’ve been a misunderstanding. Maybe he thought you were talking about something else.”

Connor shifted uncomfortably. “I guess.”

“Have I steered you wrong before?”

“Well, no,” Connor admitted. “But why the sudden change of heart? I thought I was a pathetic gay mess.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Zoe grinned. “You’re still a pathetic gay mess. But I don’t know, I think you have more of a chance than you think.”

Connor narrowed his eyes. Something was up, but if he knew his sister, he wasn’t going to get a straight answer out of her (in more ways than one).

There was a hesitant knock at the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened slowly and their father stood in the threshold looking almost nervous. “Connor…Got a minute?”

Zoe swallowed nervously and stood up from the bed. “Ohhhkay, I think that’s my cue to skedaddle.”

“Bye, Zoe,” Connor said, watching her practically jog out of the room.

She stopped on her way out the door and called over her shoulder: “Think about what I said, Connor.” And then she was gone, leaving Connor and Larry in an tense silence neither one wanted to break.

“Sup,” Connor said eventually, crossing his arms defensively.

His father sighed, and sat down on the edge of the bed. “We should talk.”

“Don’t have much left to say to you.”

Larry shook his head. “You’re right. _I_ should talk.”

Connor removed one earbud. “I’m all ears,” he bit out.

His father took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I haven’t been fair to you.”

Connor snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I’ve been talking to your mother,” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “All this stuff. The hair and the nails and the…the bipolar. You’ve never held back how you feel or who you are. And I didn’t know what to do with that.”

Connor raised an eyebrow. “…Okay…" 

“And when you came out…” Larry trailed off. “It was like, you were just rubbing it in my face that you were…” 

“Different?” 

“That you didn’t care—about what I, or anyone else thought. A boy should care about his father’s opinion.”

Connor swallowed hard. “I did— _do_ care.” 

“You don’t have to,” Larry put his hand up. “My opinion has been wrong for years, anyway.” 

“Not gonna argue with that.”

“You have to understand, Connor. I was raised to hold everything in. I’m _Catholic_.”

Connor shrugged. “Toxic masculinity and Catholic repression aren’t my fault.” 

“Of course not,” Larry shook his head. “I’m not doing this very well. I’m not used to this kind of thing.”

“Not used to what? Being honest about your feelings? _Having_ feelings?” Connor rolled his eyes. "Besides anger, I mean."

His father didn’t respond. He just sighed. 

“Is there more?” 

Larry looked unsure. “That’s up to you, kid.”

Connor furrowed his brow.

“I want to make things right between us,” he sighed. “But I know I’ve done a lot of damage…So, you have to let me back in, if you want to.”

Connor sighed. Every fiber in his being was screaming at him to shout at his father about all the horrible things he’d done. But he remembered almost exactly a year ago, when he’d called his sister and asked for similar forgiveness. Zoe had let him back in, and _he_ hadn’t deserved it either.

He looked up at his father, and swallowed his anger. “Okay.”

“Okay?” 

Connor put his hand out hesitantly. “I can't promise it will be easy, but…We can try.” 

Larry took his son’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm am so so sorry it's been so long. I've been dealing with some personal stuff, and I've had a lot of schoolwork. My schedule isn't going to get much clearer before graduation, so my update schedule is going to be very erratic. I'll post when I can. It probably won't be another month before I update again, but it also probably won't be on Monday. Thank you for being understanding.


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan and Connor return from Thanksgiving break.

Early morning sunlight filled the dorm room as Evan walked in. It was the first day back from Thanksgiving break, and he was more than a little nervous. He was sure that Connor would continue to freeze him out, and he wasn’t sure how much more of that he could take. Connor hadn’t messaged him all break. The air in the room smelled stale, which meant Evan must’ve beat Connor back. He put his duffle on his bed, and climbed onto Connor’s to open the window, because while the window was right in between their beds, Connor had adjusted his bed to be higher off the ground, for reasons that were beyond Evan. It’s not like Connor even had enough stuff to need the storage space. It just made his bed more dangerous to fall off of during the night. 

Evan opened the window fully, to let some fresh air into the room, and then slumped down. Connor’s bed smelled like him—not that Evan was being creepy, or anything—it was just that Connor smelled nice. He picked up Connor’s pillow and took a deep inhale: leather, graphite, smoke, fruity shampoo, and something warm and spicy that Evan couldn’t place. Maybe it was just Connor’s natural scent. _Is that a thing?_ Whatever it was, Evan liked it. He held the pillow close to his chest and closed his eyes. It was almost like the real thing.

The door opened then, and Evan jumped up in a flash, dropping the pillow like a hot potato. “What? Nothing,” he choked out, as Connor stepped through the threshold.

“Oookay,” Connor raised an eyebrow. “Hello to you, too.” Connor slid a black backpack off his shoulder and set it down next to his bed.

“H-Hey…” Evan hesitated. “How was your break?” 

“Honestly?” Connor sighed. “Kind of weird.”

“How so?” 

“Well, my dad actually apologized for being a dick, for one—”

“That’s amazing!” Evan blurted. “Or, I think it’s amazing? Sorry.”

“No, it’s…it’s definitely good. But, like I said, weird.” Connor sat down on his bed, and patted the space next to him, inviting Evan to sit next to him.

Evan pulled himself up. “For sure.” 

Connor sighed. “I’m sorry I’ve been so weird lately.”

“Oh…” Evan swallowed hard. _Here it comes. He’s gonna tell me what I did wrong, and how terrible I am. He’s gonna disown me. This is it._

“I was dealing with some stuff after Wyatt, and I…” Connor shook his head. “No, that’s not true. I didn’t ever really care about Wyatt.”

“You…” Evan hesitated, not daring to wonder what that meant. “You didn’t?” 

“No, God,” Connor shook his head. “I just…He’s what I thought I deserved.”

“Connor,” Evan said softly, letting his hand fall over Connor’s. “You’re worth a whole lot more than a guy who thinks Freud is valid.”

Connor chuckled lightly. “I know that, now. I think I’d rather be alone than be in another relationship like that.”

“Good.” Evan gave Connor’s hand an awkward pat and then moved his hand away, with a sharp inhale. “But…Then why were you ignoring me?”

“I…” Connor let out a long, defeated breath. “I don’t know. It was stupid. I think I just got too caught up in my own head. I’m sorry.”

Evan nodded. It made sense. He didn’t like it, and he had a nagging feeling that there was more that Connor wasn’t saying. But it was enough for now. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” Connor parroted back.

“Okay,” Evan rolled his eyes. “I forgive you.”

“Thanks,” Connor smiled slowly.

“So,” Evan cleared his throat. “Other than that, how was your break?”

Connor shrugged. “Therapist says I have ADHD, which is another weird thing.”

“Why is that weird?” It seemed like another diagnosis wouldn’t make much of a difference at this point.

“Because…I don’t know, I thought that I’d already figured out what was broken in my head, and I’d started to fix it, and now there’s this new thing.” Connor looked askance, eyes flitting across the wall.

“Connor,” Evan shook his head. “This isn’t a set back. This is good. The more you know about yourself and your brain, the more you can heal.”

“I guess.”

“Okay, think of it this way. You’re not anymore ‘fucked up’,” Evan put his fingers up in scare quotes, “than you were before. This doesn’t _change_ who you are. It’s just…another label, a more specific label. Just like the bipolar disorder labeled your highs and lows, this labels…um….Well, I don’t know yet, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

Connor crossed his arms defensively. “Doctor Marshall says it makes me more sensitive to what others think of me, but instead of it manifesting as anxiety, like you, I just get angry and lash out when I think people don’t like me, or are making fun of me. Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it’s called.”

Evan nodded knowingly. “Ah, I see.” 

“Oh, shut the hell up,” Connor said, but his tone lacked bite.

“What else?” Evan asked

“Well, apparently sitting for hours thinking about doing something, and not doing it, and then getting mad at myself about it, is an ADHD thing.”

“Oh, you mean like when you say you’re going to do homework, and then you end up just listening to music for the whole afternoon instead?” Evan elbowed Connor gently.

“What is this, ‘drag Connor day’?” Connor joked. “But yeah, that. And the fact that sometimes I get really into things I’m doing? Like drawing. That’s hyperfocus, apparently. Another ADHD thing.” 

“Sorry,” Evan gulped, feeling like he might choke on the anxiety rising from his gut to his throat. “I didn’t mean to be mean.” 

“Oh,” Connor softened immediately. “I know you weren’t being mean. You were just teasing. You’re allowed to tease me.”

“Right.” Evan laughed awkwardly, letting out a slow breath. “Sorry.” Evan knew that was true. And it wasn’t like he really expected Connor to be offended, but…things had been so weird, and as comfortable as he was with Connor, anxiety is still anxiety, and it wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon.

“I thought we already got past the prolific apologizing.”

“Yeah, I know,” Evan picked at a loose thread on his jeans. “You’re just one of my best friends. I don’t wanna mess this up.”

“Evan…”

Evan looked away. He knew what was coming. Connor was letting him down gently.

“Evan, look at me.”

Evan groaned, but did as he was told.

“You haven’t messed this up, and I don’t think you ever will. I… _care_ about you, a lot. More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. I’m not just gonna shut you out. I know the past couple of weeks haven’t been great. But this stuff, it’s not on you, and I promise that I’ll always come back.”

Evan felt breathless. “P-Pinky promise?” 

Connor laughed, but extended his pinky toward Evan. “Pinky promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have great news!! I actually managed to finish the last few chapters this past week! You're going to get a new chapter every day until the fic ends!


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan gets Connor a Christmas present.

It was the middle of dead week and Evan was procrastinating hard. Instead of working on his poetry portfolio or the research paper he had due on decreasing bird populations in state parks, he was trolling the internet, eating Swedish Fish, and listening to 2010 Taylor Swift— Also known as: “the Taylor Swift we all want back,” according to Jared.

He had a lot of work to do later, but it could wait. He was tired and stressed and Connor was gone for the first time in days, which was actually kind of nice. Evan always enjoyed his alone time. It didn’t hurt that he was looking for a holiday present for Connor. He still felt guilty that Connor had gotten him something the year before, and he hadn’t returned the favor. 

Shopping for a Christmas present (he supposed it would be a Christmas present, since Connor celebrated Christmas), was a lot more stressful than Evan would’ve guessed. It was less of a Christmas Miracle and more “this has to be perfect or else I’ll die,” which didn’t feel very jolly.

He scanned through an online shop that sold soft graphite pencils and high quality drawing paper, but the prices were too high, even if he dipped into his Hanukkah money. He frowned and closed the tab. _Back to square one._

 

Connor’s gift didn’t arrive until the day before winter break, which meant Evan was sweating bullets over whether or not the package would arrive on time, and checking the tracking every five minutes until it arrived.

 

Once he had it in his possession, the only thing left was to…actually give it to Connor. Which shouldn’t have made him as nervous as it did, but he found himself pacing the small dorm space. _What if he hates it? What if it’s dumb?_

 

* * *

 

Connor was exhausted. It turned out that studying diligently took a lot of energy, and now that he’d set a precedent of actually…trying, it felt like there was this added pressure. If he fucked up now, it would be throwing away a second chance he still didn’t feel like he deserved. The feeling of walking out of a test, and feeling like he might’ve actually done well was unparalleled, though.

So, as tired, as he was, he felt light. For the first time in years, Connor felt like he was truly on the right track. He was actually looking forward to Christmas, and spending time with his family, after losing so many holidays. Connor almost felt normal, thinking about how his mother was baking the Christmas cookies he’d always loved as a kid, how Zoe asked if he wanted to drive around and look at Christmas lights with her and Alana, even how his dad had climbed on the roof to string lights in the cold and snowy weather, and later sent Connor a picture of a stunning display, the fruits of his efforts.

Connor knew that the baking and the lights were annual traditions for his parents, but it had been at least half a decade since he’d felt included in them. 

He smiled when he entered the dorm room, his steps light and airy. Evan stood in the center of the room, holding a package wrapped in silvery blue snowflake paper, in slightly shaky hands.

“Hey.” Connor wasn’t sure what to make of the sight in front of him. _Is that for me?_

“H-Hey, Connor,” Evan raised his arms and pushed the package towards him. “This is for you…Merry Christmas.”

Connor took the package and sat down on his bed, motioning for Evan to follow suit.

Evan did.

“Well, shit,” Connor ran his fingers along the smooth paper. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“No, no—this is because I didn’t get you anything last year. And you got me that wonderful bonsai.” Evan bit his lip. “I hope you like it.” 

“Evan…” Connor sighed. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“It’s not—It’s not a big deal.”

“Then why are you so nervous about it?” 

“Because it’s still a gift, and there’s still the possibility of you hating it,” Evan shrugged. “Probably one of my more rational fears, honestly.”

Connor nodded. “What is it?” 

“Open it!” The corners of Evan’s lips twitched up slightly. 

Connor lifted the package to his ear and shook it. There was a slight shuffling, but whatever was inside was definitely plush. “Hmmm. It’s a pack of cotton socks.”

“Connor.” Evan sounded fondly exasperated. Connor could live with that. “Just open it.”

“Fiiiine,” Connor acquiesced. He pulled the tape off slow, and removed the paper slowly, hoping to preserve it. Under the paper was a white box. Connor paused, taking in the anticipation for a moment, before opening the box to reveal….

A pillow. A black pillow.

“A pillow?” Connor asked.

“Take it out,” Evan encouraged. “Turn it over.”

Connor did as he was told, and immediately broke into laughter when Gerard Way’s face stared up at him. “How _dare_ you?” he managed between loud guffaws.

“I tried to find a G Note pillow. I really did. I scoured the internet—Etsy, Amazon, sketchy eBay sellers—no dice,” Evan frowned. “So, I thought this would be the next thing.”

“This is adorable,” Connor said gently. He’d almost forgotten about that night in Ikea, when they’d looked at pillows and he’d bought Evan a new lamp. Connor didn’t know anyone else who would remember such a small moment for so long. “God, I love you,” Connor murmured under his breath, unthinking.

“W-What?” Evan froze.

Connor choked on his own spit. _Did I just say that?_ “I-I mean. As a friend.” 

“Right,” Evan let out a long breath he must’ve been holding. “As a friend.”

“Sorry, about that.”

“No worries,” Evan smiled, but Connor could tell it was forced. _I’m so stupid._ “Do you like the pillow?”

“Yes!” Connor brightened, put an arm around Evan’s shoulder, and pulled him into a side hug. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Connor let Evan go, and tossed the pillow behind them and onto the bed, near his other pillows. “It looks great.” 

Evan nodded. “It does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, I totally forgot to post yesterday. I'm not in the habit of posting everyday.


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan and Jared play more vidya games.

Evan was sprawled across Jared’s bed, with his head propped in his hands, watching Jared play _Skyrim._ Evan liked watching people play video games, more than he enjoyed playing them himself. It was less stressful that way. Of course, he liked playing video games too, but it was better to watch. 

“You’re going to die,” Evan said blankly, as Jared aimed his arrow at a dragon.

“Shut up, I know what I’m doing.” Jared’s fingers moved at lightning speed across the controller, buttons clicking furiously, as he shot arrow after arrow at the dragon, missing every time.

“I’m telling you, your aim is all wrong,” Evan insisted. 

“Maybe if you keep distracting m—” The dragon’s fire engulfed Jared’s character, and burned him to a crisp. “Damn it.” Jared threw down his controller. “I blame you for this entirely.”

Evan balked at that. “But I _told_ you that you’re angle was off. You’re the one who wouldn’t listen to me!” 

Jared sighed. “Whatever. I’m over this anyway. Move over.”

Evan silently moved to make room for Jared on the bed.

“Soo,” Jared started with a raised eyebrow. “How are things with you and Connor?” 

“Good,” Evan said shortly. “He liked the Christmas present I got him.”

“Oh, that’s it? No babbling about his eyes or his hair or—”

“Jared.”

He put his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying, I’ve come to expect that from you.”

“No, I know. I know.” Evan sighed. “But it just seems like a waste of time. What good is talking about him? Shouldn’t I be spending my time trying to get over him, instead of rehashing all the things I like about him?”

Jared frowned. “You never know. It might not be as hopeless as it seems.”

“Yeah, right,” Evan scoffed. “He’s going to message me right now and confess his undying love for me. You’re ridiculous.”

At that moment, Evan’s phone pinged with a new message. Time seemed to freeze, as Evan wondered if maybe his sarcastic prediction had come true. There were only three people who could’ve been messaging him. Not only that, there were only three people who could’ve been messaging him, and one was sitting right next to him. Evan picked up his phone slowly, hand just barely shaking to read a single message from Connor.

 

**_We need to talk when we get back to school. There’s something I have to tell you, and I have to say it in person._ **

 

Evan dropped his phone like it was on fire. Vague. It was vague and Evan always hated that. Already the gears in his mind were turning: _He’s going to tell me hates me. He’s moving to a new school. He wants nothing to do with me. He—_

“Woah, there,” Jared’s voice interrupted the spiral of Evan’s thoughts. “Are you okay? What was the message?”

“Connor…” Evan hesitated. “He wants to tell me something. When we get back to school. Th-That’s so vague. What does it mean?” 

Jared shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe he’s dying.”

“Could you be serious for once in your life?” Evan snapped. “I mean, what if he _is_ dying? Then you’re gonna feel like a real dick.”

“Dude, chill,” Jared put his hands up defensively. “I highly doubt Connor is dying. More likely, it’s just some personal thing.”

Evan’s heart sank. The last thing he wanted was for Connor to tell him something personal. There’s no way that could be anything good. No way.

Jared must’ve sensed Evan’s growing anxiety, because he reached out with a steadying hand, and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay.” 

“You don’t know that. He probably hates me.”

“Evan,” Jared spoke firmly, making direct eye contact to make sure Evan heard what he was saying. “This is your anxiety talking and you know it. Didn’t Connor say that he loved you like a friend before break? Do you think he made that up? Do you think he was yanking your chain before sucker punching you? How much of a dick do you think this guy is?”

Evan nodded slowly. “Good point.” 

“You’re damn right it’s a good point.” 

“But, then, what could he possibly be telling me?” Evan asked. “It doesn’t make any sense. We tell each other everything.”

“Maybe he really does want to confess his undying love for you.” 

“I already told you to be serious.”

“I _am_ being serious. You’ve fallen in love with him, why couldn’t he have fallen in love with you? And don’t give me any of that ‘I’m not good enough’ crap. I want hard, objective facts. Why couldn’t Connor Murphy be in love with you?”

“Because…” Evan hesitated. Truthfully, there were no objective facts, besides the fact that Connor dated Wyatt, but…Evan had dated Caitlyn, so it hardly seemed to count. He sighed. “I can’t.”

“Exactly.”

“But love isn’t objective!” Evan realized. “Love is the very definition of a subjective, emotionally driven decision. If you can even call falling in love a decision. It’s more like tripping and falling on your face.”

“The words of a true romantic.” Jared looked almost amused. “An irrational idiot, but a romantic at heart nonetheless.”

Evan didn’t say anything. He’d never considered himself a romantic. For all he watched romance movies with his mother, and for all he dreamed he might find love one day (preferably with a small apartment and a dog to match), it had always been just that: a dream. A fantasy. It still was. He shook his head at Jared and picked up his phone again, examining the message, like Nicholas Cage in _National Treasure_ , looking for some kind of hidden meaning. Except unlike _National Treasure_ , there was no hidden meaning, and no treasure at the end of the map. Just more questions, and more anxiety.

But nonetheless, he couldn’t leave Connor hanging. Whatever Connor wanted to talk about, it was serious and important. So, he picked up his phone and typed and retyped his response for a few minutes before settling on something simple, and hopefully reassuring, in case Connor was nervous about whatever it was.

 

**_Sure. You can tell me anything._ **


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor enjoys New Year's Eve with his family.

Connor leaned back against the stiff, rough but fashionable, canvas cushions of his family’s grey sofa as his father fumbled with the wide marble fireplace that stood against the far wall of their living room. It wasn’t that cold, but Larry had insisted on building a fire—something about how little use the damn thing got. Connor shifted his gaze to where Zoe sat at the piano, back straight, playing an upbeat tune that was only vaguely familiar to Connor. She had a flute of sparkling apple cider on top of the piano—a mahogany baby grand—and she paused every so often to take a sip. 

The coffee table held three other tall crystal champagne flutes that their mother had purchased in Paris, two of then holding Cynthia and Larry’s fine imported champagne, and one with Connor’s own sparkling apple cider, the sharp, crisp taste of which still lingered on his tongue. Connor looked at his mother, who sat in one of the two chestnut brown arm chairs, flicking through channels on the plasma screen TV that she honestly never used, looking for _New Year’s Rockin’ Eve_ , or as she’d so eloquently put it earlier that night: “whichever one has Ryan Seacrest.” 

Connor let his eyes finally rest on the carpet, his eyes getting lost in the dust patterns on the cream rug—honestly, it was probably the biggest signifier of wealth they had, despite how nice and expensive everything in the room was. Only rich people can afford white or off white rugs, and the maintenance they require to look good. But that wasn’t why Connor was staring.

He was processing.

It was strange to be spending so much… _normal_ time with his family, instead of fighting and yelling. It almost felt like some kind of surreal dream, which he was about to wake up from in a cold sweat and find out that the last year and a half had been in his head. Except, it was real. Larry was actually being…nice? Or, rather, he was trying. The words “Zoe tells me you have a boyfriend, tell me about him.” actually came out of his mouth, albeit, slightly stunted and forced.

Of course, Connor had to awkwardly inform his father that he’d actually broken up with his boyfriend pretty recently, and that he was back to being alone. But the point was that Larry was trying, and while he might’ve been a little clumsy and a little awkward about it, he did seem genuinely interested. And that was more than Connor had gotten from his father in years. 

Connor wasn’t ready to pretend like everything was okay again, though. Larry had a lot of amends to make, and mistakes to acknowledge. But it was a start, and it felt _good_. For the first time in a really long time, Connor felt _normal_. His family felt normal. And, sure, normal is relative, and things wouldn’t go back to how they were when we was seven and Zoe was six. They were different people, all four of them. But there was no reason that they couldn’t get to know each other again. 

There even seemed to be hope for his parents’ marriage. Connor wasn’t the only one who got an apology from Larry. Cynthia was tentative, but she had loved Larry for a long time, and she still cared for him, no matter how hard things got. So she made a deal with him: couples’ therapy. They were still looking for the right therapist, but they’d had a few consultations. Larry was less than thrilled, but when it came down to it, he loved his wife, and he loved his kids, and he didn’t want to lose them. Larry Murphy was stubborn and he was a little bit arrogant, but he wasn’t stupid.

So, he looked at his pleading wife, and thought about the two kids that he wanted to finish watching grow up, and he decided to change. Or try to change. Fifty years of engrained toxic masculinity doesn’t go away overnight.

But again, it was a start.

“You look lost in thought,” Zoe’s voice broke through, and Connor suddenly realized that she’d stopped playing some time ago, and was now sitting next to him on the couch. “Whatcha thinking about?” 

“Just how weird it is to be spending New Year’s Eve with my parents and a glass of sparkling apple cider, instead of with a joint and a bottle of cheap champagne.” 

Zoe took a sip of her own cider. “Fair enough.” 

“Do you think he’s for real?” Connor nodded towards their parents, who were now sharing a chair and watching the New Year’s special. “Do you think it’ll last?”

“You know,” Zoe clasped Connor’s hand. “It wasn’t so long ago that I was asking myself those same questions about you.”

“I know, I know…” Connor frowned. “It’s just hard to trust him.”

“I understand completely.”

A familiar knot of guilt formed in Connor’s gut. “I’m sorry.”

“Connor…” She looked over his shoulder. “I’m not here to guilt you.”

“I know.”

“I’m actually here because I heard you phone ping,” Zoe handed him the phone he’d left on the kitchen table. “I think it’s from Evan.”

“Probably complaining about the fireworks, like on the 4th of July,” Connor chuckled to himself as he unlocked his phone. “Evan hates firewor—”

Connor froze.

“What?” 

Connor didn’t speak, instead he lifted his phone so Zoe could see.

 

**_Hey, Connor. Can we talk when we get back to school? I kinda have something important to tell you. (Nothing bad, I promise.)_ **

 

“Huh,” Zoe shrugged. “Weird.” 

“Weird?” Connor almost snapped. “That’s all you can say? Weird?”

“What?”

“Zoe, this is Evan Hansen we’re talking about,” Connor ran a hand through his hair, fingers snagging on tangles. “If he plucked up the nerves to send me a risky text like that, it’s gotta be serious.”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?” Zoe asked, ever the voice of reason to Connor’s volatility. “He said it’s nothing bad. It’s probably nothing.”

Connor bit back an angrily growl. He didn’t want to be angry. There was nothing to be angry about. But he was scared and he was worried and his brain’s go-to form of emotional expression was still anger. 

“I’m just…” Connor shook his head. “I’m just worried.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Connor.” Zoe stood up from the couch and took a step towards the piano, before turning around to pick up her flute of sparkling cider. “Hey,” she started, picking up the glass. “Maybe he wants to tell you he loves you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so....the plot thickens, eh?


	61. Chapter 61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys return from winter break.

Evan paced nervously in the dorm room. Grey, early morning light streamed in through the window. It was early. The dorms had reopened at 8:00 AM, and he was there at 7:59. Which meant he’d woken up at 4 AM, to make the 5:00 AM bus. Well, “woken up” wasn’t quite accurate. It might more accurate to say that he “got out of bed” at 4 AM, because he sure as hell wasn’t sleeping. He was too anxious. He’d been anxious since Connor messaged him and asked to talk. As the end of break crept closer and closer, Evan’s anxiety grew and grew, until he constantly felt on the verge of a panic attack. _What the hell does he want to tell me?_  

He hoped that Connor wouldn’t arrive too late. He wasn’t sure how long he could wait before he lost it entirely. Every second that passed, the weight on his chest got heavier and heavier, as his mind delved into every possible, horrible scenario. Each possibility was worse than the last. Each of them ended the same way, though. With Evan losing Connor, in some way or another.

And that, even the mere idea of losing him, the suggestion of it, was enough to fill Evan’s throat with bile. It felt impossible. Logically, he knew that losing a close friend wasn’t really the end of the world. He would, eventually, move on and heal. But, _God,_ it would hurt for a long time before then. It had to. It was _Connor_. The first person in the world to see Evan having the worst kind of panic attack; the guy who looked at all of Evan’s broken pieces, and decided to stay.

He couldn’t lose him. He just couldn’t.

Evan turned on his heel to stare at the door, daring it to open. A few seconds past, and nothing. He sighed. Connor was going to be awhile. It was possible that Connor might even show up the next day. It was Saturday, after all, and classes didn’t start until Monday. Connor could show up anytime before then, really. It’s not like Connor was full of anxiety over a vague message asking to talk. _I guess I’ll try to read while I wait._ He pulled out his textbook for his advanced plant biology course, and settled onto his bed to attempt to be productive.

Connor showed up two hours later, while Evan was in the middle of reading the same paragraph on pine bark for the millionth time. Reading turned out to be a bad idea. His mind kept wandering. It was better than pacing, though.

Connor opened the door slowly, almost hesitantly, and greeted Evan with a slow and soft, “Hey,” as he gently closed the door.

Evan closed his book and swallowed down his fear. “H-Hey.”

Connor tossed his duffle bag onto his bed, and sat down next to it. “So…”

Evan pursed his lips. “So.”

Connor leaned forward slightly. “So?” 

“So…What?” Evan hated this. _Why doesn’t Connor just come out with it?_

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Connor asked, as if it was obvious. 

Evan nearly choked on his own spit. “What?!”

Connor furrowed his brow. “You messaged me on New Year’s Eve and told me you wanted to talk about something…” 

“Excuse me?” Evan shrieked, jumping up from the bed and nearly flying across the room to stand in front of Connor. “No, I didn’t! _You_ messaged _me,_ a few days after Christmas. _You_ had something to tell _me_!”

Connor scoffed. “If this is a prank, Hansen, it’s not very funny.”

“I’m telling you, Connor. I didn’t send you any message like that,” Evan insisted. He didn’t want to call Connor a liar, but none of this made any sense. _How could this be possible? I’ve read that message a thousand times_. “I-I-I, I have the message! I can show you!” Evan pulled out his phone and showed Connor his text history.

Connor took the phone from Evan and scrolled through for a few seconds before looking up. “What the _fuck_?” Connor’s face was turning red with anger. He whipped out his own phone and his own messaging app. There was a message on it, from Evan, asking to talk. Not exactly the same words—these words sounded just like something Evan would say. “What the fuck is going on?”

“C-Connor, I swear, I didn’t do this.” Evan looked up at Connor with wide, pleading eyes. He watched the frustration in Connor’s countenance soften.

Connor sighed and put down his phone. “Alright, fine. If it wasn’t you, and it wasn’t me, then what the hell is going on here?”

“Someone must be pranking us,” Evan sat down next to Connor. “I mean, it’s not like this is some kind of criminal hack job.”

“Yeah, whoever wrote the message to me had to have known you,” Connor said, “So that narrows our pool of potential suspects down quite a bit.”

“Funny.” Evan rolled his eyes. Connor was right though. There was really only one person it could be. “It had to be Jared. He’s got the tech skills to pull it off, and the motivation to screw with me.”

Connor raised an eyebrow. “What motivation?”

“Well, he knows that I have feelings for you. So he was taking advantage of that,” Evan shrugged. And then froze.

Connor’s eyes were nearly popped out of his skull. “W-What? You…What?”

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ “I mean, um, friendship feelings.”

“Friendship feelings?” Connor asked uncertainly.

“Y-Yeah. L-like, Jared knows that I care about you,” Evan managed, feeling his face burn, “That were friends. And he probably thought it would be funny…That’s all.”

Connor nodded slowly. “Right…”

“It wasn’t funny though. I’m sorry this happened.” Evan kept his eyes locked on the floor, not daring to meet Connor’s questioning gaze.

“Don’t worry about it,” Connor clapped a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “I’m sure you were more worried about it than I was.”

“Yeah…” Evan said quietly. “Worried” was one way of putting it. Another way was completely exhausted and unable to sleep for the past couple of days wondering what the hell Connor wanted to tell him. And this whole time, Jared was listening to Evan panic over it, and just…letting it happen.

Because this was a stupid joke. A set up.

“I’m going to _kill_ Jared.”


	62. Chapter 62

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor waffles like the useless moron he is.

Connor’s head was spinning, and Evan's words still rang in his ears. “ _I have feelings for you.”_ There was no way that could mean anything other than the obvious. At least, Connor didn’t think it could mean something other than an admittance, of, well. Feelings. As plain as it seemed that Evan had feelings for Connor, Connor was still terrified. He didn’t want to push things with Evan, not when he saw how panicked Evan was over the messages. Just because Evan might’ve had feelings for him, didn't mean Evan was ready for, or even wanted a relationship with him. And it was always possible that "friendship" was actually, in fact, what Evan meant.

And it was always possible that Evan was telling the truth, and he hadn’t meant it like that. It was hard to tell whether or not Evan was lying, because he was so god damn embarrassed. Regardless, though, the whole thing was weird. The air in the apartment still felt heavy and tense, and Connor’s stomach had been doing somersaults for the past three hours.

If Evan _did_ have feelings for Connor, what was Connor supposed to even _do_ with that? How did he go about telling Evan that he returned those feelings? And if they dated? What would that even be like? As much as Connor wanted to just grab Evan and plant one on him, he knew he had to be more cautious than that. The last thing he wanted was to cross any boundaries before Evan was ready, to scare Evan or make Evan uncomfortable. He had to be careful about things….Delicate, even, which really was not his forte.

Evan, probably due to embarrassment, had buried himself in a biology textbook, but Connor couldn’t imagine Evan was very focused, given everything that had happened that morning. So, Connor stood up and took a few steps toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Evan asked almost instantly. His voice was sharp and tight. He was trying to mask his anxiety, but Connor knew him too well to fall for it.

“I’m just going to call Zoe,” Connor said as calmly as he could muster. “I didn’t want to bother you. You’re reading.”

Evan nodded. “Oh…Okay. Cool.”

Connor gave Evan an admittedly rather forced smile, and escaped out the door. He made it to the lobby of the building, and took two steps outside, before he was nearly blown over by a gust of wind, and he remembered that the courtyard was covered in snow and also freezing. Luckily, the lobby seemed mostly empty, and there were a couple of chairs and a couch, so Connor settled on the cheap, rickety, barely-even-a-couch, and pulled out his phone.

His thumb hovered over Zoe’s number, but he hesitated. She’d been weird recently, recanting on her own advice, and it was massively unhelpful. He had no idea, if he called her right now, if she’d say something like “oh you should totally go for it” or “I thought you were trying yo get over him” and no matter what she said, how objective or subjective she would be.

So, Connor texted Alana. It was either that or try to call his therapist on a Saturday afternoon for what basically amounted to frivolous teen drama, and that just seemed like a stupid idea.

 

 **To Alana:** Hey. Got some time to talk? 

**New Message From Alana:** _ Yeah, totally. What’s up?  _

**To Alana:** It’s a long story, but basically, Evan’s friend tried to prank us, for some reason that I still don’t fully understand, by hacking our phones. I’m not sure what was supposed to happen, but Evan said that he has “feelings” for me. And I really have no idea what that means or what I’m supposed to do with that information.

 **New Message From Alana:** _ Overthinking things much?  _

**To Alana:** What?

 

Connor grimaced. He didn’t appreciate being called out like that. Not that he could really blame Alana, but still.

 

 **New Message From Alana:** _It means he likes you! It’s a good thing._  

 **To Alana:** He said that he meant it like ‘friend feelings.’ 

 **New Message From Alana:** _ Like you’ve never backtracked on anything. He was probably scared. Probably completely convinced that you don’t feel the same way.  _

**To Alana:** So, to clarify, you think I should go for it? 

**New Message From Alana:** _ Of course you should go for it, you dumbass.  _

**To Alana:** Rude. 

**New Message From Alana:** _I’m not wrong tho._  

 **To Alana:** No, you’re not. 

**To Alana:** But how do I just…Tell him I like him? What if I’ve completely misread this situation? I don’t want to make things awkward. 

 

 

Things were actually already kind of awkward. But Connor had no desire to make things worse, or to make Evan uncomfortable. Connor had been a pusher and an aggressor in other areas of his life for long enough. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that to Evan. He had to be sure.

 

 **New Message From Alana:** _ You tell him that you value his friendship, make it clear that he can set the place. Be completely honest with him.  _

**New Message From Alana:** _ I know you think you’re some kind of rock, or whatever, that you destroy everything you touch. But I’ve heard the way you talk about Evan, and so has Zoe. We all know that you’d never hurt him. So, just tell him all the things you’ve told us. Let him know that you love him.  _

 

Connor had to admit, Alana had a point. If he was honest with himself, he’d probably do anything if Evan asked. He wasn’t sure he believed that he could manage not to accidentally hurt Evan eventually, but still. The best way to avoid that was to be honest with Evan about how he felt. He had to do it.

 

 **To Alana:** What if I’m misreading things? Maybe he really didn’t mean friendship feelings. I don’t know. 

**New Message From Alana:** _ Well, then you’ll know. And you can finally move on. And if you are reading things right, which I think you are, then you’ll have a chance at something really amazing. Don’t screw this up, Connor.  _

 

That was something Connor had never considered. Closure. Knowing once and for all that Evan wouldn’t love him back, being able to quiet the voice in his head that asked “what if” at 3 AM, when he should’ve been asleep. Connor let out a long exhale. Alana was right. Of course Alana was right. It was _Alana_.

 

 **To Alana:** I’m gonna do it. Thanks for your help. I’ll text you later. 

 

Connor shoved his phone in his pocket. His heart was already beating a million miles an hour. He was going to go up there, sit Evan down, and tell him how he felt. The thought of it sent waves of both dread and excitement through his veins. For better or for worse, nothing was going to be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed a day! I presented my senior thesis (basically the culmination of a year's worth of writing and rewriting on the first 50 pages of a novel) yesterday, so it was just a hectic day, and I didn't have time.


	63. Chapter 63

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jared gets what's coming to him.

As soon as Connor left, Evan closed the textbook he’d been pretending to read, jumped to his feet, and pulled out his phone. Jared was going to _pay._

“Yello?” Jared practically sang into the phone.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Evan didn’t bother with pleasantries. He was too angry. “You can’t just play with my life!”

“Woah, woah, what?” And Jared had the audacity to sound confused.

“You hacked my phone! You almost ruined everything with Connor. And, for what, some kind of stupid joke?” Evan sneered as he paced the dorm room. “You’ve really gone too far this time.”

“Look, look, I’m sorry,” Jared sighed. “It wasn’t supposed to be such a big deal. I didn’t realize that you’d get so anxious about it. We just wanted to trick you guys into confessing your feelings.”

“Well, it was stupid and you better do something really nice for me to make up for it—wait, _we_? W-Who’s we?” Evan sputtered in furious disbelief. Jared had been gossiping about him? What the _hell_? Evan whole face was probably red, and he was so, _so_ glad that Connor was out of the room. 

“Shit.” Jared said quietly. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Jared,” Evan said coldly. “What the fuck is going on?”

“So, you remember that partner assignment I had last semester?” Jared’s voice went up an octave, which meant he was genuinely uncomfortable, and that brought Evan the slightest of petty joys.

“Sure,” Evan put a hand on his hip. “So what? What does that have to do with you almost ruining my life?”

“My partner on that project was Zoe Murphy, Connor’s sister.” 

Evan stopped pacing. His first thought was that Jared was screwing with him, that it was some kind of cruel, twisted joke. But Jared sounded so serious, more serious than Evan had ever really heard from him. 

“You…What…” Evan struggled for words. “Seriously?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay, start from the beginning. What the hell happened?” Evan wasn’t as mad anymore. His confusion and curiosity had won out over his anger.

“I didn’t realize at first, that she was Connor’s sister. I knew her name was familiar. I couldn’t place it until one time I met with her and she was on the phone with him.” Jared took a hesitant breath, and Evan realized this must be where the story started going downhill. “So, we got to talking, and we realized you’re both crazy about each other, and also very dumb, so—”

“Wait, go back, _what_?” Evan’s heart was pounding and his legs started to move him back and forth again. “ _You’re both crazy about each other.” Could that be true? Could Connor return my feelings?_

“You’re very dumb?” Jared asked blankly. “What?”

“No, dickhead,” Evan snapped. “The part about both of us being, uh, you know…crazy about each other?”

“Oh,” Jared laughed. “Yeah. According to Zoe, Connor has spent hours going on and on about you. Your laugh. Your freckles. Your ugly polo shirts. He even likes the tree thing. He thinks it’s adorable.”

Evan’s heart caught in his throat. Did Connor really think those things? “R-Really?” 

“Oh, yeah.”

“Well, that’s…” Evan smiled. “Interesting news. I’m still mad at you, though.”

“I know, I’m sorry. We screwed up. It was a stupid idea. But you gotta believe me when I say that we only wanted you two to be happy.” Jared sounded genuinely contrite, and in all honesty, Evan couldn’t help being more preoccupied with the knowledge that Connor loved him back.

“You owe me big time,” Evan said, trying to keep the force in his voice, but almost definitely failing. “We’re going camping over spring break, and you don’t get to complain about _anything._ ” 

Jared groaned. “Fine. I deserve that.”

“You do! Do you know how stressed I’ve been? I didn’t sleep at all last night, and I got here as early as possible. I’m exhausted. And to top it all off? I accidentally said that I have feelings for Connor!” Evan grimaced just thinking about it. It was _so_ awkward and uncomfortable. 

“You did?! Holy shit!” Jared sounded excited, which is the opposite of what his reaction should’ve been. “What did he say?”

“Nothing, because I panicked and backtracked, and made things even more awkward. I said that I meant it like ‘friendly feelings.’” Evan hung his head in his hands. “It was awful.”

“Oh, man,” Jared snickered. “At least now you can tell him the truth.”

“After that performance?” Evan scoffed. “He might’ve liked me before, but he’s probably fleeing the country as we speak.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I know.”

“Get off the phone, and tell him how you feel,” Jared urged.

At that moment, Evan heard footsteps coming towards his door. Connor was coming back from talking to Zoe. Maybe Zoe told him the same things Jared had told Evan…Or maybe she’d kept things tight-lipped, although it would be hard to imagine why she would do something like that.

“Okay, okay,” Evan acquiesced. “He’s coming back. I’ll call you later.”

“Good luck.” Evan imagined that Jared was winking. “You get your man, and then call me later to tell me what it’s like to kiss a string bean.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous, Jared.”

“Talk to you later.” 

“Bye, Jared.” Evan hung up the phone, tossed it on the bed, and was about to sit back down with his biology textbook, when Connor walked through the door, looking somehow more beautiful than he did when he’d left—and even through Evan’s haze of embarrassment, he knew that Connor looked beautiful. But now, his hair had been windblown, and his eyes hard a sparkle of anticipation. In fact, his whole countenance seemed eager and anxious for something. He closed the door softly and took a step towards Evan.

“Hey,” He said slowly. “Can we talk?”

“Of course.” Evan spoke softly and looked up into Connor’s brilliant blue eyes with a reassuring smile. “What’s up?”

“Well, I was just thinking,” He ran a hand through his hair. “What you said earlier, about having, um…Feelings for me?”

Evan’s eyes widened. “Yeah?” He managed quietly. _Is this really happening? Is he about to say what I think he’s about to say?_

“Well, I…I hope that you didn’t actually mean the friendly part, because, well, the thing is,” Connor chuckled at himself. “I actually, kind of like you…A lot…”

“Connor…” Evan said slowly. He didn’t have a lot experience with…whatever was happening...and he didn’t want to screw it up, so he took his time with his words.

“It’s okay, if you don’t feel the same way,” Connor said quickly. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

“Connor.” Evan said again, firmer this time. 

“Your friendship is the most important thing to me, I don’t want to ruin that.”

“ _Connor.”_

“I promise I won’t make things weird.”

“CONNOR,” Evan said again, as loudly as he could without actually yelling, but Connor continued to ramble, and Evan had to wonder if that’s what he sounded like all the time. It was kind of adorable to see Connor so worked up, though. He clearly cared a lot, and it was sweet. Too bad he couldn’t take a breath long enough to let Evan speak. _What am I supposed to do?_

And then, as if in answer to his own question, his mind conjured Jared’s voice from almost a year earlier. **_“If you don’t grab him by his stupid jacket and passionately make out with him, I swear to God, I’ll do it for you.”_** Evan took a deep breath and glanced at Connor’s lips before making a decision. He lunged forward, grabbed Connor’s lapels to pull his head down, and pressed his lips to Connor’s.

But Evan misjudged his own strength and Connor wasn’t prepared for Evan to pull him down with such force, and just as their lips met, Evan felt himself tumbling backwards.


	64. Chapter 64

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan and Connor talk.

They landed with a loud _thud_. Evan groaned in pain. Connor somehow managed to catch himself on his hands and position himself above Evan, so his hair hung down and brushed against Evan’s cheeks and chin. 

“H-Hey…” Evan managed.

“Hey.” 

“So…I think I’m a little bit in love with you…” Evan admitted. 

Connor grinned. “So, knocking people to the ground? That’s how you show your love? Interesting.”

“Shut up, Murphy,” Evan huffed. “You’re the one who kept babbling.”

“Touché, Hansen.” 

“So…” Evan cleared his throat. “Maybe we should get up?” 

“Oh,” Connor blushed. “Right. Of course. Sorry.” He pulled himself off of Evan, and stood up, offering Evan his hands. Evan took them, stood, but kept holding on to one of Connor’s hands, interlocking their fingers.

“Is this…uh…okay?” Evan asked, feeling his cheeks start to burn. 

“Yeah.”

Evan sat down on his bed, and took Connor with him. “We should talk.”

“Probably.” 

“So…You have feelings for me? Romantic ones?” Evan didn’t want to leave any room for misunderstanding. 

“Yes,” Connor nodded and squeezed Evan’s hand. “And you? You feel the same romantic feelings for me?”

“Yes,” Evan beamed. “So…now what?”

“I guess we go out on a date?” Connor sounded hesitant, and Evan knew why.

“That feels weird…” Evan frowned. They’d been so close for so many months…Going on a first date didn’t seem fitting. “I mean, of course, I want to date you. But the whole ‘first date’ thing. Not exactly right for us.”

Connor laughed. “No, not really.” 

“Maybe we could just…” Evan swallowed the fear that he was pushing things. “Skip that part, and make it official right now?”

“Make it official?” Connor cocked his head to the side.

“You know, that we’re…uh…boyfriends?” Evan bit his lip.

“Evan Hansen!” Connor exclaimed. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

“Connor.” Evan gave Connor a playful shove with his free hand. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Well, then,” Connor raised an eyebrow. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“What?!” Evan almost shrieked.

Connor laughed. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Of _course_ my answer is yes.”

“Oh.” Evan blushed again.

“Evan, I’ve been crazy about you since we first met,” Connor ran his thumb in circles against Evan’s hand. “You’re freaking _adorable_. And then getting to know you, and finding someone so kind, someone who understands me, and all my baggage. I didn’t stand a chance.”

Evan stomach did flip flops as he listened to Connor’s gentle words. _This whole time? Connor’s felt that way this whole time?_ It almost felt like a dream, but it was real. It was really happening.

“Connor, I…” Evan’s voice was thick with emotion. “That’s so sweet.”

“I know,” Connor shook his head. “And it’s disgusting. This is what you’ve done to me, Hansen.” 

“Please,” Evan scoffed. “You’re just a sap.” 

Connor simply shrugged. “Maybe so.” 

The fell into a silence, neither one sure exactly how to proceed. It was all so new, so seemingly delicate. “So…” Evan tried to break the silence. “I, uh, I want you to know that I feel the same. I didn’t realize my feelings as quickly as you did, but I’ve always liked you, I just didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know?” Connor furrowed his brow. “How’d you finally realize it?”

Evan’s shoulders went up to his ears and he squished up his face. “Remember when you fell out of that tree and broke your arm?”

“Oh my _god_.” 

“I know.”

“And Zoe said that it was stupid of me,” Connor laughed. “Turns out, it was totally worth breaking my arm.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“What?” Connor shrugged. “My arm healed.”

“That’s beside the point.” Evan dropped Connor’s hand and crossed his arms over his chest. “And, anyway. If you’ve been so crazy about me for so long, why did you date Sigmund Freud’s great grandson?”

“Wyatt?” Connor blinked twice. “I didn’t want to be alone, and I didn’t think you could possibly feel the same way about me as I do you. And he was there.”

“He was kind of the worst, though.” 

“I mean…He needed some work. But he wasn’t _that_ bad,” Connor insisted.

“Seriously? ‘I think all humans are depraved animals’” Evan mocked. “He sucked an incredible amount, dude.”

“Did you just call me ‘dude’?” Connor raised his eyebrow again. 

“Well, I…What else am I going to call you?” 

“I don’t know…” Connor hesitated. “Babe? Honey? Sweetheart? Cupcake?”

Evan felt a blush creeping back into his cheeks. “Connor.”

“Connor works, too.” Connor was grinning, and Evan felt a little bit stupid for not realizing that Connor was making fun of him sooner. _Two can play at that game._

“So, is that what boyfriends do?” Evan asked. “Call each other cute names?”

“Among other things,” Connor nodded.

“What other things,” Evan asked, attempting to bat his eyes as Connor. 

“Boyfriends get dinner together sometimes. And hold hands,” Connor leaned forward slightly. “And watch movies together. Boyfriends cuddle.”

Evan chuckled and mirrored Connor’s movements and leaned forward. “Big bad Connor Murphy likes to cuddle?”

“Mmmhmm,” Connor nodded again. 

“What else do boyfriends do?” Evan looked up to meet Connor’s eyes again. Connor looked the happiest Evan had ever seen him. His eyes shone with the pale winter light, he wasn’t holding anything back in his grin…He’d never looked more beautiful.

“Um.” Connor’s eyes darted away for a moment, and Evan realized Connor was nervous. It was ironic, really, that Evan would have the confidence between the two of them.

Evan slowly put out his hand, and cupped Connor’s cheek, pulling Connor’s eyes and focus back. “Connor…”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?” Evan asked softly.

Connor nodded, and that was all it took. Evan ran his free hand through Connor’s hair, pulled Connor into him, and let his hands find their way to the small of Connor’s back. Connor’s lips were chapped and rough, and he tasted like cheap coffee, but the feeling of kissing him—and really kissing him this time—was more than Evan had imagined. His heart pounded in his ears, and every inch of his body tingled from the skin on the back of his neck under Connor’s hand, to the tips of his toes. For once Evan’s mind was practically blank, all he could process was Connor. His touch, his taste, the blend of graphite and fruity shampoo that he always smelled like, his hot breath when they broke apart for a few seconds to take a breath.

Evan trailed kisses along Connor’s jawline, down his neck, and to his collar bone, and grinned at Connor’s resulting sharp intake of breath. Connor put a finger under Evan’s chin and lifted his head to kiss his lips again. Evan moved forward, positioning himself so he was essentially straddling Connor’s hips, for easy access to his lips. He let his hands fall on Connor’s chest and shoulders, and shivered at the feeling of Connor’s hands running up and down his back.

And then a phone rang, loud and shrill, and they broke apart. Evan couldn’t help but take a moment to admire his own handiwork—Connor’s now messy hair, his flushed cheeks, and puffy lips.

Connor picked up the phone, and Evan didn’t think anything of it, until he remembered that Connor always kept his phone on vibrate, so he had to be holding Evan’s phone. Evan just hoped to God it wasn’t his mother.

“Hello?” Connor asked. “Oh, hi, Jared." 

Evan winced. _I’m never going to hear the end of this._

“This is Connor. Evan is a bit busy right now. Can he call you back?”

Evan groaned. 

“Great. Goodbye, Jared.” Connor hung up the phone and dropped it back onto the bed with a flick of his wrist.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Evan shook his head. 

“Well, was I wrong?”

“Well, no, but—”

“But nothing. I saved you,” Connor insisted. “Now, where were we?”

Evan wanted to be mad that Connor had just ensured that he would be mocked about this everyday until he and Jared were both dead, but Connor was looking at him with anticipation in his eyes, and suddenly it didn’t seem to matter.

“I believe,” he leaned forward slowly until he was close enough once again to feel Connor’s breath on his skin, “we were right about here.”


	65. Epilogue

**SEVERAL MONTHS LATER**

  

Evan was sprawled on his bed, reading _The Raven Boys_ , because according to Jared it involved the forest and eventually got gay. His feet hung off the edge, so that there was room for Connor to sit near him, and draw. At first, the closeness felt overwhelming, but in a good way, somehow. Now, the newness had worn off, but the comfort of the feeling was still more than Evan had ever imagined. Evan had never been able to just _be_ with someone, to just exist in the same space as someone, without the pressure of acting a certain way or saying the right things. It filled Evan with a rush of warmth, as he thought about how lucky he was.

Evan closed his book and propped his head up to look at Connor, who was deep in concentration—brows furrowed, tip of his tongue out of his mouth—on whatever he was drawing. Connor was cute when he was concentrating like that. So cute, in fact, that Evan felt the urge to distract him.

“Hey,” Evan said gently, poking Connor’s thigh. “Whatcha doing?”

Connor smiled and turned his head to the side to meet Evan’s eyes. “Just sketching.”

Evan pulled himself up to sitting. “Whatcha sketching?”

Connor’s cheeks turned a pastel shade of pink, and held up his half finishing drawing of Evan reading his book. “You.”

“Aw,” Evan tried to ignore his own blush. “That’s cute.”

Connor shrugged. “I guess.”

The last time Evan had seen one of Connor’s drawings was when Connor had drawn Evan in the tree last fall, and Connor had admitted to using Evan as a model out of convenience. It occurred to Evan, suddenly, that convenience might not be the only reason. “Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Is the reason that you never used to show me your drawings because they were…drawings of me?”

“Pfff,” Connor scoffed. “Noooooo.”

“Oh my God!” Evan cackled. “They totally were!”

“I promise it wasn’t in a creepy way,” Connor insisted. “I just…You were there, and you were so cute, and my hand had a mind of its own. Your face just appeared!”

“You’re adorable,” Evan craned his neck to peck Connor on the cheek.

Connor pouted, crossed his arms, and grumbled something about “being hardcore, not adorable.”

“So, way back at the beginning freshman year, when asked you what you were drawing and you yelled at me?”

“Iwasdrawingyou,” Connor mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” Evan grinned. 

“Fine!” Connor threw his arms up in frustration. “I was drawing you! I have sketchbooks full of your face. Are you happy now?”

In response, Evan simply put a hand behind Connor’s head and pulled him down for a kiss. He grinned when they parted.

“Connor Murphy, I am very, _very_ happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it. The End! Thank you so much to all of you who have been following this story, if you've been here since the beginning, for a few months, or if you just discovered me today. I hope you enjoyed it.


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